#this is the second poster i'm working on this fucking year

[daily-whistlepaw]

daily whistlepaw until a becomes PoV day 761

chibi whis at your service (long rant in the tags, I am more than open to constructive criticism)

[respectthepetty]

Dunk and Joong could have offered me anything in 2024, and I would have taken it, gladly, no questions because my ass is a Jaidee fan first and a human second. But to hand me The Heart Killers? Oh! Let me list all the reasons y'all gonna hate me when this comes out.

Joong plays Khao's older brother

Khaotung is older than Joong, but in BL Land that doesn't matter because Khao is playing the hopeless romantic little brother while Joong is playing his stern older brother. Someone already wrote it was 10 Things I Hate About You/The Taming of the Shrew, and Shakespeare would be thrilled to know one of his masterpieces is getting the queer treatment and it's not Twelfth Night.

Dunk is playing the crazy seducer

Boy wants a car and is willing to go to great lengths to do it, including distracting some dude, so his buddy can play house with that dude's little brother. But the whole point is they had to find a guy who was crazy enough to accept the offer in the first place >insert Dunk's character< so the guy isn't just wanting the car. He is doing this for the thrill of getting tied up, stripped down, and threatened.

And I respect that.

Jojo is apparently directing

I wanna have beef with Jojo after Only Friends, then I look at his resume and remember this is the man who gave me puppy play in The Warp Effect, poly in 3 Will Be Free, and a chaotic stripper named Judo in Dirty Laundry PLUS the YinWar trailer for their Partner in Crime concert which has now lead to YinWar doing Jack & Joker, so as a vegetarian, I'm gonna be like Elsa and let that go.

Which means Rath is probably the cinematographer

I don't give men compliments easily, so when I state that Cinematographer Rath has never disappointed me, I mean it. The man knows what he is doing, and if he is in on this series, I know if anything, it will be visually stunning.

First and Khao being the Beyonce of GMMTV

I'm in Jaidee's corner always, but I have eyes and First and Khao could really do whatever they want and I'd eat it up. I have believed them with whomever they have been partnered with in the past, and if they want to play high schoolers in an oppressed school system or a banker willing to see his ex and his ex's new man just to flirt with the boy from the market, I'm buying the tickets, I'm sitting in the front row, and I'm holding up homemade posters. Basically, I'm shutting the fuck up and experiencing whatever they want me to experience.

First and Khao tears

This is its own category because when they cry, they are in a league of their own. They claimed this series was going to be lighter than their previous work, but what is a First or Khao series without tears? I hope they are drinking water right now because someone is crying in this series, and JD's faces are already wet for other reasons.

DUNK'S BODY!

Not to objectify the man's body, but . . . it's a banger, and he has been done dirty by wardrobe for two solid years. His face card never declines. His arms are solid. His waist is snatched. His hair is perfect. Even Tay, New, and Jan were talking about him in the BTS for Peaceful Property because they were saying how New's character was based off of Dunk - pretty, fashionable, and COCKY! But wouldn't we all be that cocky if we were walking around looking like this?! Like shut up fives. A ten is speaking!

It's high time that man got to stunt like Force always does just taking off his shirt for no reason. Good for him. And good for us.

Oh, yeah, and the plot

Sorry, I mean the plot.

SHIT, THE PLOT!

You know what? Nah. I honestly do not give a fuck about the plot. Joong and Khao are hired killers. First is out to get them. Dunk gets involved (although, I think he knows a lot more than he leads on), and . . .

All will end well.

Because if anything, Jojo ain't never been allergic to a happy ending *wink*

So just know this show hit its target audience

ME!

¡Salud!

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part eight; final)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)(part six)(part seven) (ao3 link)

It was an “if” if Eddie would actually be discharged today, but now, after some more poking and prodding, he's finally on his way home with prescriptions for pain meds and physical therapy. 

Wayne helps him up the three creaky, beautifully familiar stairs into the trailer, and Eddie collapses onto the old, beautifully familiar couch the second he gets inside. The weary groan he lets out is only slightly over-dramatized. “I feel like an 80 year old man,” he complains, entire body sore and aching to the bone already. “Now I know how you feel.”

“Oi, I ain't that old,” Wayne protests. When Eddie snorts derisively, Wayne rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Alright, fine, so we both got creaky knees now. You, at least, will be young and spry again in no time, though,” his uncle tells him. “Just get some rest, old man.” 

Eddie heaves a great big sigh, takes another breath to steel himself, and then does just the opposite of that. 

“What did I just say?” Wayne mutters as Eddie moves to stand again. 

“I said I’d call Steve,” Eddie says. Steve had to go to work, but he'd told Eddie that morning to call him if he ended up making it home today. “I’ll dip out of work and come hang out, help you settle in, if you want,” Steve had said. 

Wayne offers, “I can call him for you.” 

“No, no, I got it,” Eddie insists, words broken by a grunt as he hauls himself back to his feet. “I can make it to the phone, Wayne, I'm not a complete invalid.”

“Alright.” Wayne raises his hands in defeat and backs off. He’s never been one to hover. “You just shout if you need me.” 

Eddie limps - slowly, painfully, with difficulty - to the phone on the wall by the tiny dining table they never use, the surface littered instead with unopened mail and haphazard papers scribbled with notes and reminders and important phone numbers. He leans heavily against the table as he paws through the piles trying to find a note of Steve's number. Eddie finds it buried deep, probably long since memorized by now before his memory got erased, but there it is: a notepad paper with Steve's name scrawled on it and two phone numbers written underneath, home and work. 

“Bingo.” Eddie grabs the paper, takes the phone off the hook, and dials the work number. 

The phone rings a couple times, and then: “Family Video. How can I help you?” 

“Hey, Stevie.” Eddie smiles at the sound of his voice, as if he hadn't literally just heard it only a few hours ago. 

“Eddie!” Steve's bored customer service voice brightens. “Are you home? How are you feeling?” 

“Yeah, I’m home. I’m alright. I mean, I’m bone-fucking-tired and feel about a million years old, but it's really really good to be back,” Eddie says honestly. He adds, “I’m under strict orders to rest, though - gonna be bored out of my mind, so I could use the company if you were serious about ditching work for me.” 

“Of course I was serious,” replies Steve. “It's a slow day today anyways.” 

Eddie grins. “Get your sweet ass over here then.” 

A smile is evident in Steve's voice too. “I'll be there in ten.” 

Eddie hangs up, tries his best to wipe this stupid lovesick grin off his face. He stumbles his way down the hall to his room next, flicking on some music from the cassette player on his dresser and looking around. His room is just as beautifully familiar as the rest of the trailer, not much changed from the way he last remembers it. The same music and D&D shit clutter his surfaces, the same posters clutter his walls. His bed is unmade, clothes litter the floor, same as always.

The only differences: his beloved electric guitar no longer hangs on the wall by the mirror (he was told, devastatingly, that she hadn't survived her trip to the Upside Down), and there are photographs he doesn't recognize taped up around the corners of that mirror. Eddie staggers over to get a closer look, only to first be momentarily jumpscared by his own reflection. His face is pale, eyes sunken, and his hair frizzes out in a greasy, tangled mess around his head, unwashed and unbrushed for who knows how long. Gross, but whatever. He manages to ignore his sickly appearance and inspects the pictures he had apparently deemed important enough to stick to the edges of his mirror. 

There are photos of Eddie smiling with Hellfire and his band and the kids, in large groups and small groups, with old friends he remembers and newer ones he doesn't quite. But what catches his attention the most is a photobooth strip of him and Steve. The first picture shows the two of them grinning, arms slung around each other’s shoulders; the second, a silly face photo, Eddie sticking out his tongue and Steve crossing his eyes; the third, Eddie giving Steve devil horns while Steve laughs; and the fourth- 

Eddie plucks the strip off the mirror, stumbles, so taken aback he trips over his own lame feet until he plops down heavily onto his bed, and he stares. He stares at the last image in the row, which depicts - clear as day and undeniably real, immortalized in ink on photo paper - Steve kissing Eddie, tender hand on his cheek, both of them smiling against each other’s lips.

He stares and he stares and he stares. And the longer he stares the more he can almost feel it, taste it, see the events of that photo strip playing out in his mind’s eye like a waking dream. Like a memory. 

~ 

Steve pulls up to the trailer, the one with the metal music blaring from somewhere inside that announces to the whole park that Eddie Munson is back home. He smiles at the sound, gets out of his car and bounds toward it. 

It's Wayne who lets him in when Steve knocks on the door. “He's in his room,” the older man tells him as he steps aside to let Steve in. “Make sure he's stayin’ off his feet, will you? ‘Cause lord knows he won't listen to me.” 

“Yeah, I got it,” Steve says, and his tone and his smile say I got him. Wayne nods. 

Steve makes his way down the hall to Eddie’s room. He raps his knuckles against the door first, but he doubts that can even be heard over the music so he pushes it open without waiting for a response. “Hey, Ed-” Steve starts, only to falter when he sees Eddie sitting statue-still on the edge of his bed, eyes boring holes into a photo strip of the two of them together. “Oh.” 

Eddie blinks, expression unreadable as he looks up and over at Steve. “Why didn't you tell me?” 

“I-” Steve doesn't know what to say, what he should say. His veins buzz with a nauseating mix of hope and anxiety and it's making him feel a bit sick. He takes a deep breath, turns down the music so he can think. “I wanted to. I just- I thought it would freak you out. You didn't know me. I didn't want to force anything on you.” 

“So…we were together,” Eddie says slowly. “For how long?” 

“Since July.” Steve’s desperately searching Eddie’s face for something, anything, to clue him in to what Eddie’s thinking or feeling right now. “Are- are you freaked out? Because you look a little freaked out.” 

“I’m not freaked out,” Eddie says, and it's almost convincing. “I'm just…processing.” 

“Oh-kay…” Steve breathes out, leaning cautiously against the doorframe, still hovering by the exit just in case Eddie decides he doesn't want him there anymore once he's finished processing.

“I’ve, uh-” Eddie looks back down at the photo strip he holds in his hands and takes a breath. “I’ve been remembering some things, you know, little things - in dreams - about us. But I- I thought I just had a crush or something, because I thought if all of that was real, if we had really been that happy - that…in love - then you would've said something. You would've told me.” 

When Eddie's eyes meet his again, Steve realizes he'd misread his expression before. Eddie's not freaked, he's upset, hurt, not because of what he's learned but because it was kept from him. Of all the worst-case scenarios Steve's spiraling mind had come up with over the past couple weeks, he had not considered this one. So preoccupied with his own angst over being forgotten and fear of being unwanted, Steve hadn't thought to consider that him hiding the true nature of their past might make Eddie feel unwanted too. That's the last thing Steve wants; the ache of that trumps any other ache he feels. 

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I just- you didn't know me, and I panicked; I didn't think, or-or I thought too much, but I should've just told you.” Steve pushes off from the doorway and goes to sit beside Eddie, because he can't stand Eddie looking at him with those big doe eyes and not being close to him. He leaves a bit of space, barely holds himself back from taking hold of Eddie's hand. “Because it was real, all the things you've been remembering. It was real- it is real, and I’m so sorry I didn't tell you.” 

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. His gaze flicks him up and down and across his face, and then Eddie grabs him, hands dropping the photo strip to instead clutch at Steve's cheek and jaw as he pulls him in and kisses him. As their lips slide together, familiar, the both of them sigh into the kiss. Steve feels a bursting in his heart, so similar to the way it felt the very first time they’d done this: the giddiness of reciprocation, the intuition that this is right. 

When Eddie pulls back after a few long moments, something is changed, something returned. Steve watches Eddie’s eyes flutter open; and when they do, for the first time since he'd woken up in that hospital bed, Eddie sees him, knows him, loves him. 

“How could I ever have forgotten that?” Eddie says, almost whispered, running his thumb across Steve's cheekbone. “How could I ever have forgotten you?” 

Steve could cry. Tears made of relief and joy blur his vision, because Eddie is looking at him with all the tenderness he'd been missing these past weeks, the painful emptiness of before now filled. It's all back. His Eddie is back. Steve pitches forward and hugs him bodily. Eddie returns the embrace; Steve sinks into his arms and it feels like coming home. 

He closes his misty eyes, buries his face in the crook of Eddie's neck and the tangles of his hair, and he breathes him in, clinging onto him like Eddie might just disappear if Steve ever let go. Eddie holds him just as close, one arm wrapped firm around Steve's waist while his other hand cradles the back of Steve's head and strokes his hair. Steve soaks in every touch, feels every place where they are pressed against each other, so warm and safe and loving after so long without it. He is whole again in the arms of the man he loves.  

“I missed you,” Steve mutters, lips brushing against the skin of Eddie's neck as he speaks, muffled. 

“I know, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, “my Stevie, I’m so sorry.” 

“S’okay. It wasn't your fault,” Steve mumbles, and he thinks maybe they both need to stop apologizing for this. 

Eddie must think the same, because he says, “And it wasn't yours either,” like he knows every twisted, guilty thought that's been haunting Steve lately and he absolves him of them. He tugs gently at Steve’s hair to get him to lift his head and look him in the eyes. “You know that, right?” 

“Yeah, I know,” Steve says quietly. Eddie reaches up to brush from his cheek a tear Steve didn't even know had fallen, and as he wipes it away he wipes away everything - all blame, all fear, all pain. Eddie had forgotten him, and it sucked, but now he remembers again, and none of that matters anymore. Steve hangs onto Eddie's wrist. “Just-” His voice rasps with emotion, making it rougher. “Don't you ever forget about me again.” 

It's not a promise that can be made with any certainty - anything can happen at any time, just as unexpectedly as it had this time - but Steve doesn't need certainty, he just needs to hear the words, and Eddie gives that to him. “I won't, darling,” he vows, with gentle reassurance. “Never again.”

“Good,” Steve sighs, turning his head into Eddie's hand to press a kiss to the palm. 

The last of his heavier emotions drain out of him then and now he can feel the joy of Eddie's return in its whole entirety. As he rolls his face out of Eddie's hand and settles his eyes on the beautiful boy in front of him, a grin begins to spread across Steve's face; Eddie's smile grows in tandem with his, like he's smiling just because Steve is. Steve says, giddy in full now, “You're back.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, lovely and bright, ducking to bump his forehead against Steve's. “I'm back.” 

Steve lets go of Eddie's wrist to tangle a hand in his hair, and he tilts his head up to kiss him again, just because he can, because he's making up for lost time. They draw each other in close once more, lips and bodies moving against each other, easy and natural. Steve could stay right here like this forever, never wants to stop holding him or stop kissing him. 

But a thought - a question - tickles at the base of Steve's skull, and when he does pull back he asks, hopeless romantic that he is, “Just in case - I mean, just so I know - what was it that brought your memory back? Was it like a…true love’s kiss breaking the spell sort of thing?” 

Eddie laughs, gives Steve another quick peck like he always does when Steve says something endearing. “Not quite, Prince Charming,” he responds with a grin so fond Steve thinks his heart might burst. “It was more like…the things I had remembered were just dreams to me, shallow and unreal, but kissing you was like an anchor, a reminder that allowed those dreams to sink in as proper memories and become real.” 

“So…basically it was true love’s kiss,” Steve says cheekily, just to hear Eddie’s laugh again, just to receive another affectionate press of Eddie's lips against his. 

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie concedes, smilingly, never one not to indulge whimsy, “we can call it that.” But then he amends, with a little less levity, “It wasn't exactly a magic cure-all, though. It didn't bring everything back, there are still gaps in my memory.” He looks at Steve with eyes like pools of melted chocolate, soft and endless. “But I remember that I love you; I remember that much.” 

And Steve tells him, “That's enough," and he pulls him in for another true love's kiss.

THE END. taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (continued in replies)

[iznsfw]

Drunken

Loossemble's Son Hyeju x Male Reader Smut

19,012 words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s when you realize it.

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

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

“Miss Ha failed my test.”

“No erasure rule?”

“No erasure rule.”

“Oh my god.”

“Oh my god.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stoooop!” 

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

“Hey, is that you?”

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

“Hi, mister Kim.”

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

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

“Never said she was.” He winks.

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

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

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

“We’re just friends, sir.”

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

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

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

“Wanna bet?”

“I’m broke—”

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

“Mister Kim—”

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Huh? Where did that come from?)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t. Won’t. Shan’t. Too lazy.”

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

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

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

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

-

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing. Just… feelings.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s all?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That only leads to the second question of the day:

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

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

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

“Oh, sure. Sorry about that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wait. Who are you convincing again?

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

Pretty boy. She called me a pretty boy.

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

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

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

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

Groan. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's my girl." 

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

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

"Now behave yourself."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you do love her, in a way. Huh. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

HyejU_U: hey

Sooooooooo

I’m sorry for what happened earlier. 

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

cause yknow

You pulled me down

and

We’re friends.

right?

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

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

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

Your fingers linger on the keyboard, then—

You: Sure.

Sorry, too

if i like

Made you feel uncomfortable

Wasnt my intention, i promise

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

So don’t worry <3

What a relief.

HyejU_U: i should be the one apologizing anyway

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

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

HyejU_U: sorry again

i just wanted to see if what i thought was true

Anyways. 

yeah, sorry.

You: so we’re good?

HyejU_U: we have a deal, dickface

;)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm fine, Hye."

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

"Fuck y—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don't like Son Hyeju though.

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

You don't like Son Hyeju though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Too much is just enough for me." 

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

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

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

"I bought chips—"

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

Does this kiss guarantee a ring? 

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

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

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

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

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

"I know what I saw."

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

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

"Please, oppa. Listen to me."

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

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

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

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

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

Denial is a river flowing down your cheek.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like your friendship.

“If you’d just let me explain—”

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t answer.

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

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

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

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

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

Then—

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

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

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

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

Why the fuck is Son Hyeju calling you?

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

“Oppa…” comes her voice from your speaker.

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

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

“I’m lost.” 

-

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

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

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

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

“Hyeju—”

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

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

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

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

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

You make no promises. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyeju!” Start walking faster. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, you really are just her dog.

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

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

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

“Then hear me out for once!”

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

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

Wait.

What? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you’re dating him.”

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

“Hyeju—”

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

In vino veritas.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyeju.”

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

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

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

“I like you, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her daddy, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t try me.”

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

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

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

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

“W-won’t—ah!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I-I—I can’t!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her third is to tongue your shaft like she would a sweet treat. She wants to taste all of you, from your thick tip to the base. She’s not had much to work on with Daniel, but she knew it would be a good time when you sprung out your cock. She makes this worth it—she seals her lips at your base, her nose pressed firmly at the bottom of your tummy, then produces such a harsh suction that the grip you have in her black locks of messy hair tightens. A curse is what you let out besides precum. 

“Fuck,” you say. Pull her head closer. Aggressive thrusts fire away. “Didn’t know your pouty little lips could suck dick so well. I bet it’s bulging your throat. Is daddy right about that?”

She tries to nod. Her gags stop her intended action; your thrusts have sped up and are now destroying her tight throat. No space is left for her to breathe when her mouth is stuffed with your length. Even her nostrils can’t take in much air if her nose is pressed that tightly to your stomach.

Place a hand on the wall in order for there to be no aches for her head when you thrust wildly. “You know, I changed my mind. Maybe you’re a good girl, especially with that face. Go on, touch yourself. I know you want to.”

Permission is granted by her daddy. Hyeju gives a cry in response then leads her hand between her legs. Letting you fuck her face has made her wet beyond imagination. She doesn’t need to press directly on her pussy when there’s slick all over her thighs. She gathers them all up and places them back in her pussy. She moans as she swirls her digits inside her. Here’s how it works: she has one hand masturbating, and the other on your thigh to caress it and at the same time keep her balance.

Take note of that. “You’re a smart girl, Hyeju. Smart girls shouldn’t be letting their faces get fucked. We can’t have that happen, right?”

You say that yet your actions tell a different story. Your violent pumps into Hyeju’s mouth to use it to the limits are endless. Hyeju’s moaning. She enjoys it more than she should. Of course, you jam those moans, as pretty as they are, down her throat. 

Slap your cock on her lips.

“You know what I mean.”

Slip the whole of your length out then in again. Make her brush those luscious lips against every inch.

“We really, really can’t have that happen.”

Caress her cheek. Her eyes are awaiting and obedient. Look down into them and almost feel bad for ruining her, your best friend.

“Daniel might walk in anytime. He’ll be looking for you.”

Your movements are cruel as time goes by. You shouldn’t be treating your best friend like this. You shouldn’t even be having sex with her. All of these ought to stop you in your tracks—you don’t.

“And what will he say when he sees his precious girlfriend on her knees for his best friend?”

Hyeju begins to whine. She doesn’t want him to walk in; she’s enjoying this too much. What she doesn’t want to happen even more is for you not to blow your load inside her warm throat. People can’t have what they want all the time, but she swears she won’t want anything else if you just give her what she wants. That’s for you to absolutely use her. Be cruel to her and it wouldn’t sting.

“He’ll start to think how better you are with me. You’re a bad girl, Hyeju. You know that and you still want me.”

You’re right in every way. She is better with you. You just fuck her better, treat her better, kiss her better. She can’t kiss better the wound she’ll leave in Daniel if he just so happens to walk in. Maybe she could, but she’d put salt on it when he discovers how good you make her feel. It isn’t fair to anybody. To you, the one she accidentally hurt; to Daniel, who was the one (no, make that the two with how he was her last resort and how she gave him false hope); to her, who can’t go without you.

“Let go.”

Nine.

It takes exactly nine strokes in between her folds for her to cum. Drool sheens your girth. Some even drip from her mouth. It’s like she’s in heat; she’s whining as she tries to cum and suck you off at the same time. Hyeju ends up sucking your shaft with desperation, legs quivering and threatening to give away.

“Cum with me, Hyeju,” you command her. Pull out, rather regretfully, but take comfort with how pretty she’d look covered in your cum. Your hand wraps around you and jerks you off. Although it can’t match Hyeju’s mouth or her ass, it’ll do well in shooting your load on her.

Your best friend keeps calling your name squeezed between “daddy”s as she fingers herself to orgasm. She collapses pathetically on the floor, in a pool of sweat and cum. Her shirt and the floor of your shared dorm room are stained. No need to wonder where those white stains come from; the only suspects are you and Hyeju. It’s a partnered crime for her squirt comes out at such a velocity that it rivals your cumshots.

“Take my load, Hyeju, fuck!”

If there’s anything Hyeju isn’t, it’s submissive. It somehow changes when she nods and opens her mouth. You’re introduced to a whole new side of her. Her post-orgasm face is one you hope to admire everyday. Look at the expressions she makes when her eyes are crossed and her tongue is out for you and you have difficulty choosing between the two. 

You and Hyeju exchange a tired look. If you’re to be specific, a look is how everything starts. You became friends with her because she was staring at you too long a time in class. You quickly reunited with her in college when you looked to your back to see to whom the familiar voice belonged. It took one quick glance to see that Daniel had kissed her in the noraebang.

Similarly, a look is what causes you to shamelessly throw Hyeju on the bed again. By now her limbs curl into yours like this were a completely natural thing that happened between you, as if she were always being fucked and manhandled like this. Your kisses now are more aggressive, too. They aren’t nervous like earlier, when you still weren't sure if doing this was right. Hyeju responds by engaging in a battle for dominance, pushing forward and pulling the forces connecting you. 

You win in the end.

Slam her back down to the mattress. Her anticipation is written clearly in her eyes. “I’m going to ruin you, Son Hyeju,” you say.

She laughs in your face. “Bet.”

Alright. You’ll show her. It’s a friendly bet you’ll take all seriousness in.

Align your dick with her waiting cunt. You shed all attempts to tease her or dive into foreplay. What she needs is your cock inside her, rearranging her insides. If that’s so, you’ll give it to her. 

“Oh!” Hyeju gasps. Her pretty eyes are big above her hands covering her face. She never guessed you would feel this good inside her. “You’re so fucking big, daddy. It's, it’s better than I imagined, fffuck.”

Steer all your weight into this thrust specifically. Your tip makes contact with her G-spot and sends her legs shaking. Send her a couple inches further on the mattress. Her godly tits begin another round of bouncing. There’s no other routine you’d love to watch. 

Already you've put your hands on her hips. They’re to pull her closer if she gets lost. Again. You have to make sure you won’t lose her this time. This chance was given to you for a reason. You have to keep her here, show her all the love you’ve kept bottled up all these years.

Hyeju squirms a lot. That’s what your grip is for. It’s to keep her on the bed so she can easily receive your pumps. And what a good job she does at receiving them—Hyeju’s hips shiver as they’re subjected to a force her sensitive pussy can’t handle. She’s always going into things she can’t handle. This is no different. Time with Daniel was okay, but you’re a different story. You ensure that she’s always filled to the hilt until she’s bottoming out. 

Deeper and deeper you go. Your cock knocks up into her tummy. You curse; it’s hotter than it’s supposed to be. Something as simple as that shouldn’t be so arousing.

“Oh, you like that? You… you like seeing your big cock stuffing my little pussy?” asks Hyeju. Her teeth are parted to let in air she so desperately needs to formulate these words. She knows they’ll turn you on. “I know you do, daddy. Look at your meat ruining my insides. You’re going to cum so much inside me. And I’ll take it all. I’m a good girl. I’ll show you I’m a good girl.”

She leads your hand to her throat and closes your digits around it. Get the message. Squeeze there tight. Her strangled gasp is everything.

“You are, huh?” you say. Your composure is long gone. “Are you always this tight, Hyeju? Are you always this good? Or is it just for daddy?”

There’s something incredibly hot in the way Hyeju gushes and screams for you. Her nipples stand in the air, aroused by the quick penetrating done to her pussy. It seems almost impossible for her to be this wet. Each push of your hips brings forth a gush of wetness that wets the sheets and your joined crotches. Bring out your cock for a second to quickly flick its tip on her clit.

Hyeju gropes her own chest with closed eyes. “Ohhhh, fuck!” 

Return to your routine of drilling her. Her whole body reacts violently to your pounding. Moreover, every part of Hyeju’s beautiful body screams to be touched. Her jiggling thighs and breasts, her midriff prone to your thrusts, her face that’s never looked this slutty… where should you start? Your touch is given multiple choices, and you choose all of them. Your hands roam her body and squeeze and feel and grope. In response, she moans. The volume of her acute voice turns up with each, almost like her body has triggers that would draw out louder sounds. 

You think of it that way and now Hyeju’s screaming as you propel inside her while keeping a hand on her clit. 

“Daddy, o-only you, daddy!” she proclaims in a helpless scream. “No one can make me feel as good as you do, just keep fucking me, don’t stop!”

You’ve got your answer. Smile in satisfaction and, since she’s a good girl and gave the correct response, lean it to worship her breasts. Does slapping them count as worshiping? Hyeju thinks it does—her high groans and yells are enough to be context clues. You marvel at the size of her chest, so subtle with the baggy clothes she wears but now in their full, naked glory before you. It’s impossible for them to be presented to you without a squeeze being done.

“You like my tits, daddy? I’ll let you fuck them all you want, just finish inside me. I’m safe today. Promise, p-pro—”

Bury yourself deep inside her, to the point that your cockhead pushes at her cervix. Fill her up. Hyeju moans happily. She rolls her body up and down. The stimulation seduces you into making (kind of) breeding her a job well done.

“Thank you, daddy.” she sighs. She’s still erotically grinding her hips. It’s karma for overstimulating her a little earlier when your fingers filled her. 

“S-stop, Hyeju.”

“Stop? Alright, sure. I think that’s enough now. Daddy doesn’t want to fuck my tits anymore.”

Naughty little brat. She knows just the right words to tick you off and turn you on. It makes you want her to pound her into the bed again so that not even the old mattress can forget that it was the place you and Hyeju fucked.

“I’m just kidding, silly. Sit down! Yes, thank you.” 

She flashes you a smile after you do as she says. It’s a rare moment in this session with her that she has the say in what happens. Somehow. It can’t be completely true, not when she’s on her knees again for you. Not when her tongue trails worshipful lines on your cock and draws tight licks on your tip. Shiver. You’re a bit sensitive yourself.

“Now see how good this feels?” 

She takes her glorious breasts in her hands and wraps them around your cock. You let out a guttural moan. Hyeju’s tits rival her mouth and pussy. It’s a close competition, with the advantage of softness most of all. Oh, when she starts to move, gliding her supple skin up and down your size, you almost cum on the spot.

Her bosom is a portal to heaven, you swear. Your legs feel light. Your core is hot as your size disappears between her breasts, buried in the soft and safe haven she provides. The friction is so overwhelming that you doubt it could even be a real sensation.

She makes a show of rubbing your tip on her nipple, similar to what you did to her clit. The two of you are sensitive, so you moan in harmony as it happens. After gliding your cock on her large breasts, she goes back to titfucking you. 

It’s all a matter of technique. Whenever she presses her chest together, your cock is suffocated with euphoric tenderness. On the other hand, when she simply moves up and down, you’re given the opportunity to grind down at the skin between her pale breasts. Each route leads to an inevitable fate: exploding all over her a second time.

"P-please stop, Hyeju," you say. You can't handle no more and there's so many more things you want to do to her.

"Awh." She pouts. Fat tears risk spilling from her eyes. God, she could be so cute sometimes. "What do you want, daddy? I can be good."

"Turn around."

"Ohhh, I see what you want." Hyeju turns around and spanks herself. Her ass ripples photogenically. "Of course. Of course you want it."

Hyeju can be so many things. A few minutes earlier she was a submissive babygirl for her daddy, and right before that she was a brat. Now, she transforms into a seductress. She doesn't lace or lingerie to become one. She has that fantastic body to do the work for her.

Hyeju starts to dance. Your eyes are trained on her. They never want to see anything else than her swaying her butt with a dancer's grace and charm. 

"Giving me a show, huh?" 

"Unless daddy wants it already." 

"I do."

She squeezes her ass cheek before reaching her pussy. Then, she rubs her wetness on her pink, puckered hole. She lathers some at the inside of the rim, too. She didn't expect to fuck you today, no matter how many times she's dreamed of it, so there's no lubricant around. Hyeju has to make do.

"Oh!" she squeals when you give her a playful smack on the ass. "Impatient. Daddy's impatient. Don't worry, I'll give it to you."

“You did this before?”

“Duh.” Hyeju smiles sweetly, quickly returning to her good girl side. “You ready now, daddy?”

Apparently, it’s a rhetorical question, for Hyeju immediately guides your tip into her backside. You do your part in spreading her cheeks. Both of you moan at the first contact. It’s difficult by itself to insert just your tip through. She’s too tight. 

You’re sinking into this long-chased dream. You’ve seen Hyeju walk around the dorm with no shorts on. Sometimes you're able to catch a glimpse of her bare ass when she dresses up in the dark. It’s normal when it’s with you, considering that your friendship transcends time, but she doesn’t know that yearning’s been put in your heart in those moments. You want her. You want Son Hyeju.

And now, she’s submitting herself to you. She’s given you her body, her tits, her pussy. Now she offers you an equally delicious choice: her supple ass that’s bouncy as it finally sits down completely on your lap. 

“Good daddies bounce their babygirls on their knees, right? Should’ve known that, dummy. So come on, pound me. It isn’t hard.”

Well, you are. Hyeju’s ass is constricting you yet you enjoy every second of it. Her tight little asshole clings to you as you do as she says. You’d do anything for Hyeju, and that doesn’t exclude engaging in anal sex with her.

Choose a rhythm to go by to enjoy the tightness Hyeju gives you to the fullest. She leans into you and hums quietly, lower lip worried between her teeth and ass steadily rising and resting. The flexes of your thigh also stimulate her needy pussy. Your knee brushes her clit steadily while your cock penetrates her asshole better than any toy could. Better than any boy would.

“Oh, that feels so good, daddy…” Hyeju murmurs. “Keep spreading me like that, yes.”

Just when she thought you’d switch to being gentle, your thrusts become sporadic. She can’t find which timings you’re going by. The calm before the storm, so to say. Hyeju’s whimpers and whines are your thunder, and they soon live up to their name when they grow louder, filling your ears as would the violent downpour of raindrops. 

“D-daddy, daddy, oh my god—” Pain partners up with pleasure in wrecking her hole. Darn you for reaching in front of her to rub her clit as well. Too many things are happening at the same time. “Daddy better make me cum, please, please—”

Your size fills the tight space of her ass so much that it’s difficult to move. The juices of her pussy that she’s used as makeshift lube can’t even do the job they’re assigned to. However, you don’t care about that. You simply fuck Hyeju’s fat, delectable ass like it’s been your long-term dream. In a way it is, but you’d be dreaming about it long after it’s already been fulfilled.

Hyeju stands up to take the lead and work her butt on you. You know she’s an excellent dancer but you never knew she could be this good at twerking either. 

“Holy shit, Hyeju, your little asshole feels amazing,” you moan. Spank her, though she’s undeserving of punishment when she’s amazing at using that ass.

“And your cock is so fucking big in my ass,” she says. “I don’t want anything else, daddy. Ohh, god, keep doing that.”

Her rear end bounces and claps together as they take in your fat cock. She looks back at you lustfully, watching you ruin her supple ass. Reach for her breasts to match the velocity of her thrusts. You’re two forces colliding, each filled with fire to defeat the other with pleasure. It’s a losing game when Hyeju’s ass is just as good as her pussy, which you continue playing with to bring her to orgasm.

“Good girl, Hye, keep bouncing that fat ass on daddy,” you whisper in her ear. Love to hear her weak little moans; they show you that she likes this as much as you do. Probably more. “You want to cum, right? You want to squirt on me again?”

“Yes, daddy, please!” Hyeju is in paradise although her skin feels like it’s been set on fire. She hasn’t felt this good before. “No other cock can do me the way you do, daddy, I’m all yours! Make me cum, cum inside me, daddy!”

You’ve changed her. She’s a totally different person outside of the bedroom. She hides her approval in sarcastic comments and teases you about them. How is it that she’s completely submissive and good for you? 

Your ego swells. Smack her pussy just enough to make her gasp. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours, daddy!” 

“And this ass?”

“It’s all yours, daddy,” sobs Hyeju. “Always so fucking big inside me, so much better, you need to make me cum—”

Pull her down to your lap then thrust inside her all while not letting an inch withdraw from her snug butthole. “Cum for me,” you say.

“Ohhhh fuck!” 

Hyeju begins her sexy body rolls again as a profane spray of clear liquid fires from her pussy. She’s so wet; when you rub her clit, a squelching sound is produced. She’s too turned on from the feeling of you savage pounding inside her. She slaps her own pussy to go along with your rubbing, then leads your fingers inside her cunt again. She’s still so tight. 

The combined feeling of two of her holes being violated has her tired. She could be murmuring a spell and you wouldn’t know because of how jumbled and jarred her words are. The syllables make out your name and title. At least, that’s what you could understand. It would take an experienced veteran transcriber to make sense of Hyeju’s sounds.

You blast her ass with so much cum that it overflows, like water threatening to spill from the brim of a glass. Your joined cores are so wet and sticky that neither of you feel like moving. You want to stay in the narrow yet pleasurable comfort of each other’s touch forever.

It’s so pleasant that you could only hear the gratifying sound of each other’s pants and not the knocks on your door.

So safe that you don’t hear the sound of a lock being skewered with because each other’s bodies are more homely than this dorm.

So distracting that when he comes in through the door and yells in disgust, it’s the first time you feel an awakening sobriety.

[aryxchse]

school president and the troublemaker. | percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader.

a / n ; hello ya'll it's ya fav daughter of hera writer, this fic is written while i listened to my 'old bts songs' playlist, you know i'm talkin' about you just one day!!!

warnings : cursing, teenagers (that's should be a warning), this is writed by according to my countries school rules so deal with it, also grover, y/n, annabeth and percy are my favorite gang fr, rival-ish friends to lovers??, percy beating the shit out of some guy, mentions of staring, blood, no kiss on the lips ugh

"i fucking hate mondays," the son of poseidon whined, crossing his arms on his desk and leaning his head on them.

the first two class was history, which it didn't made anything better for him. he was a math guy, he didn't liked reading and stuff. but you and annabeth seemed to really enjoy it, even though annabeth is literally dislexic while your adhd was messing with your head.

grover sighed in front of him, leaning his head back until it rested on percy's desk. "i know right?" he said, fixing his green beanie. annabeth and you sighed, rolling your eyes at the two lazy boys.

"oh please, today's class is about mythology. i'm going to fuck that bitch up," annabeth said, smiling at you. you smiled back, knowing how much she hated your history teacher.

"you're fucking every teacher beth." percy yawned next to you, looking at the blonde girl. "they all hate you at this point for real."

"don't care," annabeth shrugged, looking like she was proud of herself. which she was. "they should educate people with truth, not a fucking lie."

"speak louder queen!" you agreed with her, while taking notes to your clipboard. there was a lot of shit going on in this big ass school, and you didn't know why you wanted to be a president of it this much.

at the beginning of the year, percy told you that you shouldn't get ahead of yourself—meaning that you guys can get expelled any day. but it never happened, it was yours second year in this school. three demigod's and one satyr, in the same school for two years. they should write and teach this in history too!

you had a way of talking out of problems, so whenever you four caused a trouble, everyone acted like nothing happened because of the mist. you controlled it in some type of way, because you wanted to be a president of some school before you become an adult.

back to now, percy peeked from your shoulder to see what you were writing on the clipboard.

— TO DO LIST —

visit the art, music and sport club to see if they need anything ✓

send the principal the needs of the clubs ✓

hang the new concert posters to schools board ✓

check if the p.e class needs anything

meeting with the other members at 13.00, lunch break

take the list of needed books in the library and hand the list to principal ✓

help the teachers or principal with the paperwork or sending them to where they should go ✓ (done for today)

you tapped your pen on the clipboard, focusing on the tasks you haven't done yet. percy sighed next to you, getting overwhelmed with how much work you had.

percy and annabeth was in the president club thingy with you, annabeth was the leader of the library club while percy was the sport clubs. they handed you the lists you writed on your clipboard. percy joined you to skip some classes and spend some time with you while annabeth just liked to be in charge.

"i didn't know we had a meeting today," percy whispered to you as the bitchy history teacher came into class. you rolled your eyes at the boy, putting the clipboard away to open your history notebook.

"i literally texted it in our groupchat. but you decided to ignore it and write 'what are we doing after school tomorrow?'" you reminded him. percy was about to answer you, but the teacher started yelling.

"alright kids, today we're learning about the twelve olympians and their wars!"

the four of you tried your hardest to not laugh, instead sharing side-eyes.

"man, for the first time this class will be fun," percy said, resting his cheek on his palm.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

the class was indeed fun.

annabeth had so much fun fixing the teacher's every mistake while the rest of you tried not to laugh. but you took notes anyway. you wrote the notes in ancient greek for the gang to copy from you, since they had dislexia and couldn't read.

"you're the best," annabeth said, kissing your cheek as you handed her the notes. you smiled, blowing a kiss to her way as a response. grover sat next to annabeth while eating a vegan sandwich, and percy was trying to get a drink from the machine.

"ya'll have any more cents?" percy asked, angry at the machine. you sighed and stood up, giving a good kick to the machine. it started working again, dropping percy's blue coke with some snacks. you smiled at him, flipping your hair while you returned to your seat.

"like i didn't know how to do that," he murmured, taking his drink with his now free snacks. he gave the chips to annabeth while handing the m&m's to you. he took the fish cracker to himself, holding it in his mouth to open his coke.

there was this little table at the end of the corridor, right next to the food machine. it was you guys usual spot, and everyone knew it. except the lunch times at the cafeteria, you four always hanged around here.

annabeth rested her back against the wall, laying her feet on top of grover's lap. the satyr didn't mind, since they usually sit like that. your seat was in front of annabeth, as you rested your head against your palm, taking a support from the wall. percy leaned against you, putting his whole weight on you while he eated the fish crackers messily.

you paid no attention to him as you wrote something on your clipboard again. "did we have anything missing in p.e class? like some new basketball's?"

annabeth looked up as she thinked for a moment. "the new one we got apperantly blowed up, at least that's what james told me." you groaned, smashing your head -gently- to the table. "i fucking hate basketball team."

"same," grover said, eating percy's now empty diet coke. "they're like hydra's."

percy laughed at that, making a fist bump with grover.

"when was the meeting again?" grover asked after the laugh session with percy. you groaned again, head still on the table. "read the fucking group chat for gods' sake!"

"man, chill." grover raised his hands in defeat. annabeth closed her own notebook while handing you yours. "thanks babe." she said, patting your head gently. you only made thumbs up to her, leaving the notebook on the table.

percy sighed and sat straight, putting your notebook in your bag. he held you by the waist and made you lean to his shoulder, taking your clipboard away from you. "you've already done almost everything here, the others are useless." he said, voice soft.

you hugged percy's arm to support yourself and annabeth slightly smiled to herself. as your chin rested on top of his shoulder, you looked at the clipboard. "i know but the p.e class is worst than everything i did there, it's so tiring."

"i can help you, you know." he said, putting the clipboard on the table and looking at you. you pulled yourself away to look in his eyes. how those ocean eyes can held so much care in them?

"but you hate checking p.e class," you said quietly, hands still lazily on his bicep. he smirked, putting his own hand on top of yours.

"if it's going to make you shut up, then i'll be glad to help." he teased, and you can see it in his expression. you only rolled your eyes, smile betraying your fake annoyance.

"wow, what a nice man you are percy jackson." you complimented, patting his bicep. he flexed them while he gave you a cocky look. "i know pretty."

"i'm gonna throw up," annabeth said, still smiling. grover nodded, gagging playfully. you both sticked your tongue out to them, chuckling.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

"that's it, i'm not fucking letting you help me through the p.e class check again." you hissed, making percy sit on the infirmary bed.

he fucking had a fight. apperantly some guy from the soccer team checked you out in that pretty school skirt of yours, and percy noticed it. you didn't know why he was this protective or annoyed when it camed to other guys, but now you had to deal with his bloody lip and eyebrow.

"he was fucking you with his eyes, what i was gonna do? give him a view?" he snapped back, his normally sweet shade of sea green eyes now as dark as a storm. you hated when percy looked at you like this. his hatred was easier to see. it wasn't towards to you, it's never towards to you. but you can't help but feel like you're being attacked too.

"nothing, percy. nothing!" you said, your own eyebrows furrowed. no one was in the infirmary because the school sucked at being responsible. you made sure to point this to principal too.

luckily, your best friend was a demigod, who can heal with water. but unluckily for you, there was no water near. so, you had to caress his wounds like the old ways. still, he healed much faster than a mortal could.

the moment alcoholed cotten touched his lip, he hissed. "what the fuck you mean nothing?" he said, but his voice wasn't loud. "you- you had a crush on him or something?" the last sentence camed out his lip weak.

you rolled your eyes at the boy, who's now had a worried expression on his face. you couldn't understand why, but he looked like he could cry if you touched him. "don't tell me you have a crush on that fucking asshole. you can't be serious, i mean- have you seen hi-"

"percy shut up for gods' sake!" you yelled and he jumped. it made you feel a bit bad, but he was not making any sense. you stopped wiping the blood and cleaning the wound on his lip, now starting to put some bandages on it.

"i don't have a crush on the guy, i don't even know who he is." you explained, now wiping his eyebrow. he didn't flinched on this one, instead he was focused on you. "but you can't just attack people just because they're looking at me."

"he wasn't looking, y/n/n. he was literally-"

"fucking me with his eyes, i know." you shushed him gently with your words, your eyes holding too much care in them. weren't you questioning his eyes back then?

you were standing in between percy's legs, and you both were face to face, even though he was sitting. his expression was soft once again, and his eyes shined like always. you held his chin gently while carefuly treating the wound. "but he didn't dared to do anything, did he?"

"i would like to see him fucking try." he hissed.

"believe me, he wouldn't." you assured him, now bandaging him once again. he had a confused look on his face, but one side of him telled him you were right. "those guys like that can do nothing but stare."

there was a silence between you two now. percy kept sitting on the bed while you put away the first aid kit. after that you camed back to your previous place in between percy's legs, hands resting on his thigh.

he gently held your wrists in return, thumbs caressing the place gently. the boy was in the other infirmary in school, since they didn't want to put him in the same place as percy. you wondered how was the boy, because percy was literally about to kill him.

"how am i gonna get a boyfriend if you keep attacking the boys around me?" you joked, and for the first time, percy didn't laughed. he still looked down on your now intertwined hands, looking like he was in some kind of a trance.

you didn't want a boyfriend anyways, you wanted percy. the joke was to lighten the mood, but to also see his reaction. you we're having suspicions or delusions lately, about him liking you back. and you wanted to get a real answer for yourself.

luckily for you, percy was about to give you one.

"i don't want you to have a boyfriend, to be honest." he whispered, his forehead resting on your shoulder. your cheek -you didn't know why- immediatly found it's place on his head, smelling the salt water scent he had.

"why? you wanna keep me to yourself?" you chuckled, asking what you wanted to ask for a long time in a jokeful way.

"yeah, actually." he said.

you frozed. you wanted to keep your actions as warm as possible for him to not think you would ever reject him. you did wanted to get some real answers, but not stomach flipping, toe curling and cheek blushing one like this. your heart beated so fast that you thought you we're having a heart attack, and your breath hitched.

"what?" you managed to ask softly, and your voice felt like an angel to his ears.

"i'm sorry i-" he choked in his own words, afraid to face you. he still kept his head on your shoulder, in fact; he nuzzled into your neck a bit. "i don't want to ruin our friendship, but... in some way i do."

you chuckled, and he felt like the weight on his shoulders lifted.

"i kinda want that too," you whispered back, hands now caressing his bicep. his hands find their way onto your waist, holding you firmly close to himself. his heart was about to pop out from his body and met with yours, just chilling inside your body instead of his. weird way to express what he was feeling, but percy was never good with words anyway.

"yeah?" he breathed out, his smile can be heard from his voice. your own smile matched his, so bright that sun would be jealous. "since when?"

"oh man, i don't want to answer this." you joked, and he laughed. that's the react you've been waiting for. "you'd think i'm obsessed with you."

he raised his face from your neck to look at you, his eyes shining as bright as the sky now. you loved how his emotions reflected in his eyes, making him not be able to hide anything. you knew him better than anyone else anyways, he was always an open book to you.

"oh please, i don't have the right to judge you when i'm this whipped." he said, making you laugh. "we're we even friends this whole time?"

you laughed harder. "you know what? i think the fuck not." you answered through giggles. "we we're just two idiots who pretended to be friends."

as you both laughed there, to your whole situation, percy hugged you tight. an air escaped your lips in suprise, but you were quick to hug him back.

"you don't have any idea how relieved i am right now," he mumbled to your neck, leaving a few light kisses there. your hands caressed his raven hair, massaging the scalp. "i love you, so fuckin' much."

"i love you too, seaweed brain." you said back quietly, kissing on top of his head.

he was about to kiss you on the lips when annabeth and grover barged in.

"finally you idiots!" annabeth said, crossing her arms and resting her back on the door frame. grover put his arm on her shoulder, smirking.

"it's about fucking time, eh?"

[batsplat]

there is that adorable pic of a 13 year old pecco and marc, hugging him by the shoulders. pecco hadn’t become a rossi protege yet, marc recently won his title in 125, they are both so so young. like, of course pecco is going to think a senior (albeit as famous as marc was at the time) is cool and worthy of “celebrity” picture! of course marc is going to take photos with kids that ask him to!

and then they meet at the rossi ranch years later, pecco after an abysmal rookie moto3 season, but part of vr46 academy, marc as a multiple world champion in different categories. like, i’m sure they’ve crossed paths in the paddock, but it looks like the ranch was their first outside of work get-together?

i do wonder at what point did pecco stop seeing marc as this admirable motogp giant? they are co-workers/competitors now, supposedly equals. does the childish wonderment and idealization ever go away, when you are put head-to-head? yes, pecco has said that he doesn’t consider himself on marc’s level, but it does really answer the question, when marc achieves something awesome, like a fucking pole on a honda, does it fill pecco only with the sense of falling short, jealousy, frustration, or is there that tiny 13 year old pecco somewhere inside going “wow, this guy is awesome”

anon... first of all this ask is right up my street. second of all, yeah no the thirteen year old never entirely went away

to some extent obviously all riders kinda do this when they end up competing with the guys they grew up admiring. (or well in modern motogp, that's how it worked out - the competitive windows do have to be big enough, yeah? I'm not sure about the nineties premier class riders, but starting from valentino who had the biaggi poster, was a capirossi fan, an norick fan... but then also didn't get to compete directly with doohan for instance and was instead just mentored by him. valentino sticking around for so long basically Breaks this.) like I was talking in this ask about the dani/marc relationship and how when we talk about dani being marc's 'reference', it does mean something slightly different than the valentino hero idealisation. basically, it's the question of whether you think you're gonna fight that guy one day, if all goes well... because if you're little pecco, right, you're looking up to marc and want to be him, but you also want to beat him (if little pecco is feeling very brave). so marc fills the role of 'reference', the bloke who is basically always a few steps ahead of pecco - exaggerated by how precocious marc was. the role of 'hero' is of course again filled by valentino, though in this case pecco didn't actually have to meaningfully compete against his idol. the separation is a bit cleaner

and look, I doubt this ever really went as far as marc's admiration for dani. but yeah as you say: at the end of the day it's this cool superstar who is tearing up the lower categories and then is tearing up the premier class... like that's this prodigy... and then you get to be part of your actual hero's academy AND you're there when the prodigy gets invited to your hero's home!! not only is marc cool, not only is he winning everything, but also valentino clearly thinks he's fantastic... you kinda want valentino to think you are fantastic in the same way he talks about marc and looks at him... and pecco is like. seventeen at this point. great age. super impressionable. he's having a marginally better season than his absolute flop moto3 campaign but it's still!! rough! you know, so far away from this world that valentino and marc inhabit. obviously young athletes dream, obviously they have to be a bit delusional, obviously they have to believe they'll make it, but those are the kinds of harrowing years that really dent your actual belief. like god, the world of valentino and marc must have felt kinda unattainable back then...

anyway, obviously a year later marc became public enemy number one. personally, if I had to guess, I don't really think valentino has ever spoken much to his proteges about the details of the marc feud. it's the kind of thing where you maybe occasionally badmouth a guy you all hate when the kids are in the room, some dismissive comment or some slightly ugly sideswipe... but valentino did probably prefer to keep his mentees out of the whole thing and isn't giving them particularly detailed hot takes on sepang 2015. I mean, look at what luca said last year

hey, he could be lying, but is he really the type? "I'm sure he's still angry" - even that doesn't sound like he knows anything particularly specific about where his brother's at these days. if valentino hasn't spoken much about sepang 2015 with his own flesh and blood, then is he really giving long debriefs to marco bezzecchi? are you sure? of course, unlike luca, pecco does have the dubious distinction of actually being at sepang 2015, so there's always the chance he was in the room when some nasty things were being said about marc... but my sense is that all the academy riders have kind of been left to their own devices when making up their minds about the marc/valentino relationship. just probably a bit of a no-go topic on most days. and while pecco may have initially been completely on board with the marc hate, over the years his stance has mellowed to the brave and bold position of 'actually, I have other stuff to worry about'. like, this is why you don't get this weird bez-style all-over-the-place behaviour from pecco - fundamentally, he is far too sensible and far too interested in his own career to be going around seeking revenge on the behalf of his mentor. it's not like valentino really seems to expect him to either. sometimes the best thing you can do is simply try not to care that much

soooooo fundamentally you get to this place where for quite a few years, pecco really isn't thinking about marc too often I reckon... it's very much background noise - even when he's gotten to motogp, he's obviously not exactly fighting with marc from the word go. he has other stuff to worry about! then marc is gone for a bit! 2021 is kinda weird because pecco never really felt in that championship fight (I mean, maybe he thought he was idk) because he only really got going late in the season, and marc definitely wasn't in that title fight... BUT pecco got his first ever motogp win as a result of a proper great defensive ride against marc at aragon! seven overtakes and re-overtakes in the last few laps! truly some proper smart riding, anticipating where marc was going to attack and figuring out how to get him back every time. and of course, that's like... got to be one of the coolest ways possible you can get your first win? beating one of the all time greats (even if a physically impaired one) in a direct extensive duel? genuinely looking at the current grid, I'd struggle to come up with a cooler maiden win... oh I suppose zarco last year would actually be a decent shout. one of those two imo! anyway what an ego boost that must be

typed out the response to this ask on wednesday and let it *vaguely gestures* simmer a bit, but actually thursday they had pecco on that motogp podcast thingy and talked him through basically his whole career. which is one of those cases of 'not necessarily anything new, but always interesting to hear how the bloke himself puts it', and anyway it does also cover a lot of the stuff referenced in this post, would recommend. I did want to quickly bring it up because pecco does talk about aragon 2021 in that (at around 23 mins in):

Q: And the amount of pressure, for everyone who doesn't remember - it was Aragon '21, vs Marc Marquez, anti-clockwise track, everyone's expecting a certain person to win. [...] Seven times, he passes you in the last three laps, and every time you have to find something, for your first win - A: Not bad, yeah? Q: How was that feeling crossing the line, because it's your first win but it's also the last three laps of craziness that you've come through? A: Yeah, I remember that... we were prepared to fight for this victory because we work at it a lot and we were finally prepared and as soon as started the weekend I was feeling great. Marc was very strong, Fabio was very strong also... We started to race and I did the pole position and then we started to race and Marc was like always super super fast in Aragon because it's a left hander track, he's very strong in Aragon, it's his home grand prix, so... I was trying the maximum and I was there fighting with him and for me was fantastic because I was very strong in a very complicated track for me. The first - was not the first possibility to win but was one of the first and we were fighting with the maximum with the top [player?] so defeating him in Aragon was fantastic and I never could have asked more for my first victory for sure. Because some win their first victory with gap or with some luck, we fight. [...] Yeah, was fantastic.

like I said. it's a really cool win! pecco knows it's a cool win! he knows it's a cool win because it's marc! even two premier class title pecco still feels deeply aware of how special that was

*reaches up to scratch at ear in slightly self-conscious manner when saying "not bad" about beating the eight times world champion*

because it does mean something extra to beat marc, right? and that's also what this represents to pecco, as an opportunity... obviously on balance he'd very much want marc to not be in his team, because he's not an idiot and he's aware it's going to be a bit of a nightmare. that being said! of course, would there be anything cooler than for him than actually beating marc in the same team... I don't want to sound like a broken record on this topic but just to reiterate, none of the titles won post-2019 are in any way diminished by marc's absence - and fundamentally pecco must know he's a deserving champion, even if he still considers himself on a different level from valentino and marc. but of course it would mean something special to beat him! it's already meant something special to beat him in individual races! it'd mean something special if he beats him this year, older bike be damned! and it'd mean something special next year. pecco is deeply wary of marc, and rightly so, but don't take that to mean he isn't up for the fight. he always has been

weirdly enough, I do actually think being valentino's protege might help him be sensible about marc. because the thing is pecco has clearly put some thought into all of this at some point and had to decide for himself... or well, to make peace with the fact that he is not going to be the next valentino rossi - and that he doesn't really want to be. it's kinda the casey versus jorge distinction: you can be a valentino fan and admire everything he's done on-track but still very much know that valentino the persona isn't something you really want to attempt to emulate because it just isn't you, or you can hunger after attaining that kind of 'character' and popularity for yourself and find yourself disillusioned when things turn out differently. pecco's in the casey camp, minus the desire to shove valentino off the nearest cliff edge. like he says:

man wants a quiet life when he's not doing the death sport. and, y'know, marc might not have quite those stratospheric levels of popularity as valentino does... but it's fairly obvious pecco links them in his mind, which is not just about talent. they're both Characters, they're both figureheads in the sport, they're both larger than life. and maybe sometimes, deep down, someone like pecco might wish that kind of thing did come naturally to him... but if he has felt that way, then he's already kinda had to work through all that. he's valentino's successor! he's the next big italian motogp star! but he's never going to be valentino. and he wouldn't want that life, it wouldn't make him happy - and probably he looks at marc with all his drama and controversy and thinks he wouldn't really want all that either. pecco's given all of this a lot of thought, and he's still probably a bit too self-conscious and a bit too aware of all of this stuff for his own good, but that does also mean he knows his own head and where he's at when it comes to his own status in the sport. both when it comes to the character and when it comes to the talent. sure, having marc's fuck you talent would be nice, everyone would want that... but also if you're a two time premier champion, at a certain point you need a certain cockiness about your own abilities. he's spoken about how he needs a more well-settled bike than casey or marc, how he can't out-perform the bike like they can - there clearly is a lot of admiration there, still the sense of respect and awe you probably can't ever quite shake. pecco won't ever be one of those aliens. but he's had enough time to establish himself in the sport before he's had to deal with the marc threat in a more active way, has had the chance to find his place without worrying too much about marc - has been able to build up his own confidence. at the same time, pecco is still very obviously aware of just who marc is and the weight of that legacy and it shapes how he approaches fighting marc. it's pecco's admiration vying with his arrogance - and he has to hope the latter wins out. you can't be fearful of the legacy of those you're trying to beat. you have to kill your heroes, even if it's a strange flavour of hero

anyhow - one big way in which valentino does loom large here is that everyone else is aware of his rivalry with marc and how it is crucial Historical Context for the pecco/marc stuff. because pecco does have that dog in him, he's fundamentally disinterested in fighting his idol's battles and is mainly just looking out for himself. a big part of the general wariness towards marc isn't even valentino-related antipathy or just respect for his abilities, but also this kind of sense of... god, this marc thing is always going to have extra implications, will there be discourse, can there please not be discourse... he doesn't want to get into this stuff, he doesn't want to be part of the sepang 2015 reenactment society. he's pretty determined to stay clear of marc-related controversy at every turn, and generally does do a good job of not letting the undoubtedly extremely annoying marc annoy him... the only time pecco had proper marc-induced head loss was mugello last year - y'know, that whole thing when he felt impeded by marc and then slowed down long enough to give marc the chance to warm up his tyres and catch a pecco tow to the front row. like that was just head gone, the kind of thing that happens when you already find someone deeply annoying and then you kinda choose the wrong moment to get mad at them. with a bit of distance pecco may well have regretted reacting that way, like you don't really want to give marc that kind of opening. he's been way more disciplined since then, but it still opened the door

fundamentally, the less time pecco spends obsessing over marc, the better for him. pecco obviously has to be very aware of marc and wary of him, but he also can't spent too much energy on admiring him or being irritated by him or anything else. (given that valentino's descriptions of the marc/pecco rivalry do seem to frame marc as a competitor who sounds an awful lot like valentino himself, ironically valentino is quite well-placed to offer the 'try to avoid letting the guy who gets off on annoying his rivals annoy you' advice.) it's always going to be tough, isn't it, competing against your heroes, figuring out how to disentangle those past emotions from how you actually approach fighting them, how to feel comfortable enough in your own skin to not be cowed by that status... you can't get to a place where you're so admiring or respectful or intimidated that you're already beaten before the competition even starts - and to his credit pecco has shown he is both willing to stand up to the famous marc marquez as well as capable of doing so. my guess is that for him, the childhood idolisation isn't primarily expressed in a 'wow he dragged the honda to pole!!' (not least when he was using pecco's teammate to directly deny pecco). sure, perhaps you do get those knee jerk reactions of admiring the sheer craft of your rival's riding, just have to do your best not to let it affect you. but for the most part it's... really wanting to beat marc. and sometimes feeling a teensy bit insecure about just how good marc is. and really wanting to beat him. he kinda has to be sensible and talk down in his brain how special this one guy is so he doesn't do anything silly, tell himself it's just any other guy... but it's still always going to be there, hovering in the background. and god does pecco really want to beat him

[callhermyname]

you're not going | eddie munson x reader, pt. 1

summary: basically the same plot of s4 ep.1; you see Eddie and Chrissy at the picnic table and get the wrong idea.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5.2k

warnings: MDNI!!; reader is bisexual; tiny bit of fluff, but mostly angst; Robin being the ADHD poster girl she is; crying, mentions of blood, assault, child abuse; THIS IS A STRANGER THINGS S4 REWRITE, I DID NOT CAME UP WITH THE STORYLINE!! let me know if i missed something.

a/n: this is part 1 of my stranger things s4 rewrite, so if you want to read more, you can help me by liking and rebloging this post, following my blog and telling me if you like it! If you haven't read the prologue, you can read it here. also, excuse any grammar errors, english is not my first language.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You've all been through a lot. After Will went missing, a couple weeks after you met Eddie, your life has never been the same, and probably will never be. Your first year at Hawkins High was hard after all the shit that went down, and you were closer to the other teens and the kids now, but you really wished you could talk to Eddie about it. You felt like he would understand.

The year after that was a little better, all things considered. After Nancy dumped Steve and he and Dustin became… friends (i guess?), you and Steve got really close too, so no one dared to talk shit about you like they used to — they knew better than to upset the girl Steve Harrington treated as a sister. When Steve and Robin started working together, the three of you became peas in a pod (especially after Robin ended up learning about the upside down and El and all that). She was your best friend, someone you could talk to about anything, and she could talk to you about anything too. When she came out to you, you felt like you could also come out to her (as bissexual) and with that you, her and Steve became best totally platonic friends.

—

"Dustin, for fucks sake, Steve has been honking outside for 10 minutes, we're gonna be late, what the fuck are you doing in there?" you banged at your cousin's bedroom door.

"Don't come in! I'm naked!" he yells back.

"You know what? We're not doing this again, I'm not losing my ride because of you, you can bike to school." you grabbed your backpack and headed out the door.

Swearing at Dustin under your breath, you make your way to the backseat of Steve's car.

"What took you so long?" Steve looked back at you "Wait, where's the little butthead?"

"He's probably talking to his girlfriend, I don't care. If he's gonna be late, he can be late. I'm not losing my ride."

"Looks like someone's in a mood today huh?" Robin teased you as Steve started the car.

"Nah, the little shit might get on my nerves but you two always end up cheering me up. Unless Steve starts talking about whatever girl he's taking out this weekend, then I'd rather just eat a handful of broken glass."

"Oh my god, that's EXACTLY what he's been doing since I got in the goddamn car!" Robin turns back to look at you, holding her hands up to her ears "If i have to listen to him talk about having sex with Linda for one more second i swear to god-"

"Heidi! I was talking about Heidi! How can you complain about me talking about something you're not even listening to?"

You just can't help but laugh at them arguing like an old married couple. You love them so much it almost hurts.

"At least I'm actually doing something with my dating life, unlike the both of you." he said in a sarcastic tone.

For the next five minutes he and Robin went back and forth about how she can't just ask Vicky out and how she definitely should ask Vicky out because of the whole "people who like boobies" thing. You space out for a second and snap your head as you hear Eddie's name.

"What about Eddie?" you ask, trying to get back to the conversation.

"See?" Robin snaps "One second she's totally inside her own little head and as soon as someone mentions him she starts paying attention. How does that not qualify as having the most heart-wrecking massive crush on someone?"

"Shut up!" you bite back, trying to defend yourself, but obviously failing, because she was right.

"Ladies, ladies! Calm down, there's no reason to get feisty. You're BOTH chickening out, not asking Vicky and Eddie out. Though I actually see where Robin"s coming from."

"Steve, c'mon-" you try yet again to tell him you're not chickening out, but he doesn't want to hear it again.

"No! Look, you listen to me, how on earth do you manage to take down three military trained Russians and still be afraid to ask him out?"

"It's not that simple!" you frown, now starting to feel like a little girl pouting over your parents giving you a lecture.

"Yeah, sure," Robin snorts "you only hang out alone with him pretty much every day to help him study so he can finally graduate"

"You know what?" you snap at them "I don't have to justify my non-existent love life to either one of you. I'm just gonna keep pretending I don't have feelings for him. Who knows, maybe he'll ask me out? That's a possibility!"

"Okay, okay. We'll drop it." Steve says, lifting his hands from the wheel for a second, in surrender.

"We just care about you, babe" Robin follows his lead "You know that, right?"

"I do."

— 

You and Robin sit at your regular cafeteria table, a couple tables away from the designated Hellfire Club table, where Eddie is yelling at Dustin and Mike about something, making it a little hard to listen to what Robin is talking to you about.

"Seriously, I'm really worried about Max. I mean, we all know she's been depressed since Billy… y'know. But she was way off today at the pep rally, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I guess" Max was to you what Dustin was to Steve, something between a friend and the little sister you never had. "I've been begging her to talk to me, to tell me if there's something I can do, but she just won't-"

You lose your train of thought when you see Eddie climb up the table, walk across it, jump off it and yell nonsense around the cafeteria.

"God, he's really worked up today, huh?" Robin says, turning her head back to look at Eddie's little scene.

"I wonder what Dustin and Mike were talking to him about. He threw at least five mini pretzels at each one of them while he was yapping about something." you chuckle and roll your eyes when he catches you looking at his performance and gives you a smile and a quick wink. "He's kinda funny when he gets mad at them."

"Funny. Right." Robin turns her head back to look at you. "You obviously think he's just funny, not cute or anything else."

"Dude, you said you'd drop it!"

"I'm sorry!" she giggles "It's just hilarious when your cheeks turn all red just because he smiled at you. You look so silly!"

You watch as Eddie pulls Dustin and Mike by the collar of their Hellfire shirts and pushes them away from the table, both of them running off the cafeteria like they're in a rush. Eddie turns around and walks towards you.

"Okay, now shut the fuck up. He's coming our way."

Eddie heads towards you with slow dramatic steps, leaning over and resting his elbows on the end of the table, an evil grin on his face. 

"Hey ladies. Whatcha talkin 'bout?"

"Nothing much," you turn to face him, now with a playful little smirk of your own. "just watching you make a fool of yourself yet again. Quite the show you got going on there."

He gasps, spreading his palm over his chest, like he's offended by you calling him a fool.

"A fool? How dare you. And yes, thank you for recognizing my performing talents. It is one of my many gifts, as you know."

"Sure do", you remember the days long D&D sessions you attended when you used to be a part of the Hellfire Club. His theatrics flooding the room as he masters his most diabolical campaigns, standing up on his wooden carved throne and emphatically yelling the lines he'd written and planned for weeks, his voice echoing the drama club room, his eyes round and wide sparkling at the dim light as he smiles with pride over one of the only things he actually felt like he was good at.

"We miss you at the club, y'know?" his voice snaps you out of your trance. He sounds almost sad.

"Yeah, I miss you guys too. But you know, I really needed the job at Family Video." Now you sound sad too. "It's a shame my shifts are not scheduled as Robin and Steve's. Can't even make plans without risking the odds of a last minute shift."

"Study sesh still up today after class right?" he quirks a brow.

"Sure!" you try not to sound too excited, but judging by the look Robin gives you, it seems like you failed.

"Great! It's a date then." he flashes you a big smile, giving you a quick kiss at the top of your head. "Thanks sweetheart, you're the best. See ya later!"

With that, he turns around to get back to the Hellfire table. Robin looks at you with something that looks a lot like pity in her eyes. "Ouch. That 's gotta hurt."

"A little." you shrug. "But it's okay, I guess. Better than not having him around."

"Oh, for the love of GOD, just ask him out already!" she says, a little too loud.

"Sure. When you ask Vicky."

"Hm. Touché, I guess."

—

You were walking out the door, headed to your and Eddie's usual study session spot at the picnic table in the woods, when Dustin and Mike approached you.

"What are you doing tonight?" Dustin asked.

"Uh… I don't know, maybe watching the game? Robin is playing with the band and Steve is taking his date, so I'll probably just tag along with them after we get off work. Why?"

"We need a sub for Lucas at the end of Eddie's campaign tonight." Mike explained. "Can you come?"

"Pleeeeeease?" Dustin begged, before you could even think about the question. "I'll clean your room for the whole spring break!"

"Dustin, you don't even clean your room. My room is always tidy, there's no way you can make it cleaner than it already is."

"I'll do the dishes everytime my mom asks you to do it! I'll clean the cat's litter box! You name it, I'll do it. Just… please?"

You couldn't help but laugh. Dustin was offering to do all those things for you, when you'd actually join them for free. Getting to hang out with Eddie was already enough to get you to agree to fill in for Lucas, but the extra bribe from your cousin sure was welcome. 

"Okay, fine. But hey, no telling your mom about our deal okay? You know she does not like it when you take care of any of the cat related chores. She knows the cat's terrified of you."

"Deal!" he jumped up and down like an excited little kid. "Thank you thank you thank youuuu!", his voice slowly faded away while he ran to wherever else he was going to now, Mike following shortly after him.

You made your way through the woods, even though you knew you were a little early. You always liked to be at the picnic table a little before Eddie, to set up your textbooks and make a checklist of all the topics you'd be helping him with that day. You wouldn't consider yourself very smart, but you always got good grades at history and literature, so Eddie asked you if you could help him study. He really wanted to graduate this year, and part of you hoped it was because he would get to graduate with you. He always talked about how school would suck even more if you weren't there anymore, so you decided to take a little of your time out of school and work to help him — not only for his sake, but also because it is the only time you get to be alone with him, close to him. God, you feel pathetic.

As you get closer to the spot, you hear his laugh. At first you're confused, because he never gets there before you and as far as you knew, he had no idea you'd always be there at least 15 minutes before him. Also, why was he laughing by himself in the middle of the woods? He usually only gets high after you're done studying, so you assume he's not high, which makes it even weirder. Before you could get close enough to ask him what was so funny that got him laughing like an idiot by himself in the middle of the woods, you hear another laugh. A girls laugh.

Silently, you walk slowly towards the picnic table, trying not to be seen. When you get close enough to see them without them seeing you, you recognise who he's laughing with. It's Chrissy Cunningham. You feel your heart drop as you watch him trying to make her laugh, the same way he always makes you laugh. What the hell is happening here? You can't quite understand what they're saying without coming a little closer to them, but you don't wanna risk getting caught, so you just watch as Eddie jumps and claps his hands and Chrissy laughs at his dramatic reaction at whatever it was she'd said to him.

You know you shouldn't feel this jealous, he wasn't your boyfriend or anything like that — hell, you couldn't even gather the courage to tell him how you feel —, and you knew Chrissy, she was a very sweet girl. She was always nice to you, even when the other cheerleaders would call you names and stick bubblegum to your hair, she was always the one to tell them to shut up and teach you a few beauty hacks in the bathroom to get the gum out of your hair without having to cut it off. But maybe that was exactly the point. She was so pretty, and so nice, you wouldn't stand a chance against her.

As Eddie turned around and playfully punched the tree behind him, you caught a glimpse of a small gathering of tiny wildflowers resting by Chrissy's side, at the bench she was sitting on — wildflowers like the ones that grow near his trailer. Did he get her flowers? Did he HANDPICK flowers? For her? —, and you feel a knot forming on your throat. He pulled at the neck of his shirt, exposing his chest tattoo and you felt your eyes filling up with tears. What was that about? Was he flirting with her?

Even though you knew it was not a good idea, you took a few steps closer, quietly, so you could hear the conversation.

"You should come see us!" you hear him say. "We play at the Hideout on Tuesdays, it's pretty cool. We actually get a crowd of about… five drunks."

You feel the hot tears start to roll down your face. You always try to go see him play at the Hideout whenever you can. You've been there the past three weeks watching them play. Why is he talking about it like no one watching them is actually important? Like you're not important?

"You know, you're not how I thought you'd be like." Chrissy laughs.

"Mean and scary?" he replies.

That was enough for you. It's not like he was doing anything wrong, but it felt like someone had punched you at your stomach. It hurts to see him treating some other girl the same way he treated you, the way you thought he treated you because he liked you, because he might like you back. You tried to not make much noise as you turned around and followed back the path you came from. There was no way you could sit and study with him like you were not heartbroken.

—

"Chrissy Cunningham?" Steve asked, still not quite believing what you'd just told them. "As in Jason Carver's little princess of Hawkins High cheerleader girlfriend Chrissy Cunningham?"

"Yes." you assured.

"Are you sure it was her?" Robin asked, also in disbelief.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Heard her voice, saw her face. It was definitely her."

"Shit, that sucks, I'm sorry." Robin tries to comfort you, reaching a hand to tap your shoulder.

"What the hell was she doing with him anyways?" Steve questions. "Doesn't she have a boyfriend?"

"Maybe she was buying some weed?" 

"Robin, c'mon." you chuckle, sadly. "Chrissy Cunningham? Buying weed? Be fucking serious."

"Yeah Robin, I hate to say it but it makes absolutely no sense." Steve agrees.

The three of you stay silent for a little too long and you feel your friends' eyes on you, looking at you with pity, and you hate it. Finally, after a few more seconds (that actually felt like hours), the silence is broken when the phone at the Video Family counter starts to ring. Robin walks away to pick up the phone and you feel Steve's arms wrapped around you.

"Look, I'm sorry about what I said earlier today in the car," he says. "I know I was a little too pushy and I know you're not chickening out. I know you're just afraid to get rejected, and us teasing you about it was not okay. I'm sorry about what happened too, with Chrissy and all. For what it's worth I still think there's probably a good explanation for it. I bet it'll be okay."

You hold back your sobs as you lean into your best friend's shoulder, trying not to stain his clothes with your tears. Even though you're still hurting, a good old bear hug from Steve always makes you feel better, like he squeezes together all of your broken pieces back into place.

"Hey, listen…" you feel Robin tap on your shoulder and you raise your head from Steve's chest. "Eddie's on the phone. He wants to talk to you."

Shit. 

"Tell him I'm not here!"

"Yeah I kinda already told him you were here, that's not gonna work."

"Shit. Fine."

You walk over to the phone and pick it up, both Robin and Steve following you to the front counter.

"Hello?"

"Hey, thank god I found you!" he sighs, relieved. "What the hell happened? I waited for you for like, half an hour and you didn't show up so I got worried because you're never late so I went looking for you but I couldn't find you anywhere," he rambles, like he does when he's nervous "so I- I went home and called your place but your aunt said you weren't there and I didn't know where else to call so I figured you were at work? Oh thank god you're there I was about to call the cops!"

"Yeah sorry about that, I was uh…" you look over at Robin and Steve, trying to come up with an excuse about why you didn't meet him like you'd planned earlier. "I- Robin! Robin had uh… band practice for the uh- tonight's the championship game so she asked me to fill in for her, sorry I forgot to tell you I was not gonna make it."

"But… wasn't that Robin who just picked up the phone?" he sounds confused. You look back and see Robin facepalming her forehead and Steve rubbing the bridge of his nose between his index and his thumb, shaking his head. Shit. You suck at lying. 

"Yes- yeah. She uh, she was at band practice but now she's here, she actually just got here. Yeah."

"Oh okay…" 

"Yeah, listen Eddie I gotta go now, talk to you later, bye!" you slam the phone back at the receiver, hanging up.

"Well, that went… well…?" Steve forces a smile.

"Sure!" Robin holds both of her thumbs up, also trying to look like she didn't think you just dealt with the situation in the worst way possible.

"Yeah sure. I'm gonna go home so I can cry in the bathroom now, I guess. Peace out." you said as you walked out the door. 

When you got home, you remembered you'd agreed to fill in as a sub for Lucas at Hellfire. Of course you did. Because you're just a stupid dumb piece of shit who couldn't pass any opportunity to follow Eddie around like a little puppy. So, you go looking for Dustin around the house to tell him you wouldn't make it to Hellfire, only to find out he's not home. You figured he's probably at Mike's, so you call the Wheelers'. 

"Hello?" Nancy picks up the phone after two rings.

"Nancy! Hey, is Dustin there? He's not home, I figured he'd be at your place with Mike?"

"Oh, hey! Yeah, they're upstairs, I'll go get him for you."

"Thanks Nance, I-" you got cut off by her screaming on the other end of the line.

"MIKE! PHONE FOR DUSTIN!" you hear her call. "So, you going to the game tonight? It's been a while since the last time we went out, we should do something after the game, I miss you!"

"Yeah, I miss you too!" you tell her. And you mean it. It's really been a while since the last time you two did something together. "I'm actually going to spend the night at Robin's tho. We can go to the movies tomorrow, maybe?"

"Sure! I can pick you up at 5, what do you think?"

"Sounds great, I'll see you then!"

"Great! Oh, here 's Dustin. See you at the game tonight!"

"See ya!"

"Hey, what do you mean you'll be at the game? Thought you were gonna come with us to Hellfire tonight" the other line now shifts to Dustin's voice.

"Yeah, about that, I'm not going anymore. Sorry."

"What? Why?"

"Something came up. Maybe you could ask Erica?"

"Erica? You know Eddie 's gonna lose his shit if I take her as a sub for Lucas."

"Yeah, I know, but it's her or nothing. Sorry, Dusty. I'll make it up to you okay? I promise."

"Fine. But you owe me one!"

"Big time, I know. Gotta go now, take care okay? See you after the game."

"Yeah, see ya." 

You felt bad about letting Dustin down. You really did. But you also knew you wouldn't last that much at Hellfire without crying, and that would be even worse.

After an hour or so of crying your eyes out, you decided to do your makeup. Even though you were feeling like absolute shit, you knew you couldn't look like absolute shit, and you usually get a boost of self esteem after getting your makeup done, and god knows you could use that right now. So, after spending half an hour doing your eyeliner on each eye, you changed into your jeans and your favorite little tank top, put on your old school black Vans, grabbed some random jacket that was hanging at the back of your chair and left to watch the game.

"Aunt Claudia?" you yelled from the front door, almost forgetting to tell her you were leaving.

"Yes honey?" she yelled back from her bedroom.

"I'm leaving to watch the championship game, probably will spend the night at Robin's, okay? You don't have to wait up for me." 

"Okay honey, have fun and be safe okay?" 

"Will do, see you tomorrow!" 

At the game, you sat right next to the band, Robin was right by your side and Steve was with his date a couple of rows back. You didn't really care for the game, you just needed to… not be alone. You and Robin had plans to go to her place after the game and watch The Rocky Horror Picture Show for the tenth time in the last few months so you could get Eddie out of your head. Before the game started, you watched as Chrissy and the other cheerleaders danced and jumped around the gym and couldn't help it when your eyes flooded up with tears again. As you tried to get yourself together, you felt Robin's hand on your shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Yeah just… fuck, I can't even hate her, she's the sweetest girl on the cheer squad."

Before Robin could say anything, everyone was standing up for the national anthem. And then you saw Tammy Thompson walking towards the mic to SING the national anthem. You held back laughter as you looked at Robin and then turned around to look at Steve, both of their jaws dropped.

"No way." Robin muttered, as she took turns looking at you, Tammy and Steve, not knowing exactly where to look at. As Tammy started to sing, you felt your eyes flood again, but this time, it was not because of Eddie or the thought of him with Chrissy, but because you were trying so hard not to laugh. She sounded exactly like a muppet.

"Oh my god I want to rip my ears out" you manage to let out without bursting into laughter.

"I told you. Muppet." you could see Steve mouthing over to Robin.

"Okay, she does sound like a muppet." Robin admits.

"Oh my god she does kinda sound like a muppet" you hear Vicky say in a low voice.

You watch as Robin and Vicky laugh at each other's jokes, until Robin lets her ADHD get the best out of her and starts talking faster than her brain's working. Even though she talks too fast sometimes, you think it's cute how she gets nervous around Vicky. They would make such a cute couple. 

After the game, you approach Lucas, giving him a tight hug. 

"That was absolutely crazy, Lucas! You just took the ball and threw it like it was nothing and then we were like 'oh god is he gonna score?' and then you DID i swear i don't think I'll ever understand how you did that so quickly, like you just-" Robin rambled, as she held her hands up, like she was tossing a basketball through the hoop. 

"That was insane, man. Really, you're a natural." Steve said like the proud mama he is to the kids. 

"Thanks guys. I-" Lucas started, but you heard someone call out to him.

"Hey Sinclair, you coming?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there!" he yelled back. "Look guys, I gotta go. But thank you so much for coming. It meant a lot to me."

The three of you smiled as he left to follow after whoever it was that called him. After a second, Robin turned to Steve.

"Hey, where's Heidi?"

"That's Brenda, Robin."

"Yeah, sure, sorry. Where's Brenda?"

"She uh…" he looked back at the crowd leaving the gym, like he was looking for someone. "She ditched me, okay? She left to talk to Tammy Thompson and then came back to tell me she was going to Tammy's to catch up or something like that."

"Ouch, ditched for Tammy Thompson?" Robin said, following Steve as he started to walk back to his car.

"Again?" you look over at Robin, the both of you laughing — not in a mean way, but playful, like the three of you always were.

"Ha ha, very funny." Steve bites back, sarcastic. "Any more jokes and the two of you are walking home."

As you walk over to Steve's car, you watch as Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire Club emerge from the drama club room, victorious. He waves at you, but you pretend you don't see it, turning over to Dustin, who's walking up to you.

"Hey, can I join you guys? Eddie said he's gotta go straight to his place tonight, so he can't drive me home."

"Steve's dropping us at Robin's, I'm spending the night out. But maybe Nancy can take you home?" 

"Oh, okay. Sure, I'll talk to Mike. See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow. Night, Dusty!" you give him a hug and kiss the top of his head, watching as he runs off to catch up to Mike.

You turn around to Robin and Steve, puzzled look on your face. Eddie always takes Dustin home after Hellfire, why couldn't he take him home tonight?

You get in Steve's car and you exit the school's parking lot. You see Eddie's van a little ahead out the parking lot, where he always parks when he's doing a deal or up to something shady. As Steve drives past the van, you see Eddie holding the door open for Chrissy to hop in.

"What the fuck?" you say, maybe a little louder than you intended.

Steve and Robin turn to look at the direction your eyes were headed, also looking at Eddie as he closes the passenger door and Chrissy turns to reach for the seatbelt (and you think to yourself she probably won't find the seatbelt, because Eddie's van has no seatbelts).

"Oh shit." Robin mutters as she turns her head back to look at the van, now behind Steve's moving car.

"Hey uh…" Steve tries to get your attention. "don't- try not to think too much about it, it's probab-"

"I wanna go home." you cut him off.

"You sure?" Robin asks. "I already have the Rocky Horror VHS with me, we can watch Blade Runner too, I forgot to take it back to the store last week and I know you love it so maybe-"

"Please just-" you cut her off too. "I wanna go home. Please, take me home." you can feel your voice trembling and tears already running down your cheeks.

"Okay, it's okay." Steve talks in a soft voice, trying to calm you down. "We'll take you home."

The ride to your house is awkwardly silent, but you don't really care enough to be bothered by it. Your head hurts and your heart sinks to your stomach at the thought of Eddie taking Chrissy home. Not only because of your feelings for him (though, mostly because of it), but also because Chrissy is Jason's girlfriend. You know what Jason would do to Eddie if he finds out about this. It wouldn't be the first time Eddie gets beaten up by Jason and the rest of his party, and even though Eddie always came back laughing about his black eye, spitting blood and limping, you knew he'd spend the next few nights sleeping at the back of his van, so Wayne doesn't see him covered in bruises — so Wayne doesn't see him looking the same way he looked when his father dropped him off at the trailer and never came back to pick him up. You know he can take care of himself, you know he's strong enough to throw a punch or two, but  you couldn't stand the thought of him spending his days alone at the back of his van, not being able to see anyone because school was off. The whole situation made your heart ache.

As Steve pulls over in front of your house, you feel two pairs of eyes on you.

"You sure you'll be okay?" Robin asks, concerned.

"I'll be fine. I just need a little time, that's all. Thank you guys, for taking care of me. Sorry about the buzzkill. Get home safe, okay? I love you." you opened the door and climbed out of the car.

"We love you too. Call us if you need anything, yeah?" Steve says leaning over the car window.

"I will, I promise."

You open the door, hoping aunt Claudia was already asleep and that Dustin wasn't home yet. You tiptoe your way to your room and close the door, throwing yourself at the bed, not even bothering changing into your pajamas. Stuffing your face in your pillow, you cry yourself to sleep, hoping it was all a bad dream, but knowing it wasn't.

[sistersorrow]

Finished Harrow the Ninth a couple hours ago

I'm not a reviewing type, so I'm just gonna include a bunch of things that made me have reactions and other miscellaneous things about my experience with the book

I don't care what Gideon says, the waters may be choppy, but the Harrow x Ianthe ship ain't sunk yet

TV Tropes is a godsend for me, cause it wasn't until I read the Foreshadowing page that I remembered a bunch of details I'd completely forgot about

I didn't bother to actually google how you pronounce Ianthe until 300 pages into the second book

People sold Gideon the Ninth as "lesbian necromancers in space" but Harrow the Ninth is the one where Harrow and Ianthe are both down horrendous

I had a vague inkling that The Locked Tomb was set in our future just because there were nine houses on nine planets and the Ninth House sounded like Pluto, but I did not expect this to be all but confirmed through a 10,000 year old immortal necromancer referencing the "It's for church honey" Facebook post and God himself mentioning None Pizza Left Beef

This does not however explain not 10,000 year old Gideon referencing Llamas in Hats

No one is allowed to say they Fucked Nasty Style anymore unless it involved cutting off your partner's arm and replacing it with a necromanticly animated bone one

The author confirmed on Reddit that partway through writing that scene she realised how sexually charged it felt and ran with it

My pronouns are She/ cause I'll never be Her (toxic immortal lich wife Ianthe, who killed a man and ate his soul to attain unlimited power and get her face on posters)

The author has stated that Ianthe is a very intentional Draco in Leather Pants character with the core differences being that she's a woman and as a sense of humour, which is why she is in fact Best Girl

I was left wondering if I'd imagined all the memes being referenced cause TV Tropes didn't make mention of a single one, so I checked the Locked Tomb subreddit to make sure I had not performed The Work on myself

If there are any Homestuck references, I didn't notice, cause I have expunged most of my knowledge of it

Dad jokes are the pinnacle of all humour

The Emperor is really bad at gaslighting

Harrow may have died with the last thing she ever saw being a nudie mag that doesn't exist, which is just hilarious

Ianthe did everything wrong, and that's why she's the best

Reading this book has reminded me I'm very bad at picking up on foreshadowing, hence scrolling through TV Tropes right after finishing the book

That threesome is the most uncomfortable I've been in weeks, which makes it good writing

I'm probably gonna read the short stories next then start Nona the Ninth sometime next week

[infiniteglitterfall]

the worst part about the i/p discourse

it's NOT the posters of Nazis with the swastikas on their flags replaced by stars of david. or the pages and pages of blood libel conspiracy theories in instagram posts about why local pride organizers are such big meanies. or the newfound insistence that jews just exaggerate and make up antisemitic incidents to smear the pro-palestine movement....

it's the fact that every. single. time. i try to post anything about any of these things, i end up in a rabbit hole SO DEEP IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO GET TO THE BOTTOM.

Yesterday, I saw a --

YOU SEE? I went to Reddit for a second to find the link to the post about the Melbourne protest this week that had people carrying the Nazi-star-of-David posters. But first, I saw a post that began, "All I see on social media and the news is more and more attacks. Who beat up a Jewish family here, who stabbed a 1 year old in front of a synagouge. Those are two examples, I've lost track of all of the other ones."

and I was like, SOMEONE STABBED A ONE YEAR OLD IN FRONT OF A SYNAGOGUE?!?!

And I started to look that up. AND THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS. EVERY SINGLE TIME.

Two days ago, I saw an article about Cincinnati Socialists setting up a table at North Kentucky Pride without asking, it sounds like, to hand out flyers saying the war in Gaza was Netanyahu's "Final Solution" for Palestinians. Cincinnati Pride organizers alerted the NKY Pride organizers, who kicked them out.

I was like, "okay, well, let's see what Cincinnati Socialists say about it." Then I discovered that their instagram not only "names and shames" the two Cincy Pride organizers and one NKY organizer. Which led to the Cincy ones getting so much harassment and violent threats that they resigned....

But also has a related post that goes on for pages and pages of pure blood libel.

So then I sat there fact-checking all their blood libel and finding out that not only was it untrue and impossible, but half the stuff they referenced didn't even exist.

Then I ended up fact-checking things in the "article" that they'd clearly used as their source. Fact-checking things I found while fact-checking those.

Trying to write a Facebook post about how fucked up it all was. Giving up on the Facebook post after several hours because it made more sense to write it on Tumblr, or at least to write it on Tumblr FIRST.

Then I'm also looking at the post they made "naming and shaming" the organizers, which is like... "the Cincy ones are partners! two days after Hamas's incredibly violent and brutal massacre, one of them changed his profile picture to a photo of them honeymooning IN ISRAEL two years ago! they did it through some group that COVERS A LOT OF THE COSTS FOR HONEYMOONS IN ISRAEL!!!!" and "the other one went to a protest of Hamas's massacre!!! with a sign saying to free the hostages!!!"

oh no. the fucking horror. truly how did these genocidal monsters even end up on the pride organizing committee. this is a shanda scandal.

then I'm responding to people's comments, trying to talk them down from horrible positions. telling people things like, "I know it's asking a LOT, but if people could grasp the idea that "going to Israel for your honeymoon" ISN'T "committing genocide," it would be really great. Or that wanting the hostages freed is actually something that both Israeli AND GAZAN protests have called for, and it's only Westerners who are opposed to it. Or that in fact, saying you "Stand with Israel," a few days after an incredibly brutal attack that burned multiple towns to the ground in one day, killed entire families and their pets, an attack which Hamas has promised to repeat "again and again and again" till Israel is violently destroyed... is opposing that attack, NOT calling for genocide."

then i'm like, "oh, i should edit these images to show the correct info, and i can explain that I drew arrows and added the correct info!" so then i'm doing that and working on writing alt text, and holy shit??? how many fucking hours??? did i spend on this?????? just because i read a frigging reddit post that linked to an article about it?????????

and like. i can go through and debunk all that shit in the comments. (and did. i responded to every single comment that believed this shit.) but ultimately, everyone who pulls this shit has way more reach than I do.

just. like. THAT'S ONE ORG IN ONE PLACE. And it was bad enough that I persevered and finished debunking it and commenting on it today and started telling people about it. Do you even know how many more of those I've seen?! How many I would see if I looked for them on purpose?!

The tsunami of deliberate disinformation is SO FUCKING BAD. All of it is SO FUCKING LAYERED. In any single bullshit post, there are SO MANY horrifically bad and wrong assumptions. So many of them are DESIGNED, BY HAMAS, to lead people down the path to "All Zionists should die! Israel should be violently destroyed!"

There were so many comments on a "Free Palestine Melbourne" group's instagram post (Sydney? Could've been Sydney) asking, pointedly, how many Jews are Zionists. What percentage of Jews are Zionists, again?

One (1) had a response telling them it doesn't matter what the percentage is, no percentage would justify collective punishment of Jews.

The rest all said things like, "Too many."

It feels like constantly being lied to. Just constantly being lied to about things I have looked up and verified myself from solid sources, now and in the past, by people I counted as my community.

Then just now I opened Instagram because I hadn't taken screenshots of a couple of the pics I wanted to add. And I'm hit with these:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by jewsinschool (@jewsinschool)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Jewish on Campus (@jewishoncampus)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Jewish and Proud (@jewishpridealways)

Then some brighter posts (including one of a baby bat!!) and then a post which sums up a lot of what I'm feeling right now.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Jess Cook (@jessicagcoook)

It's like, yes, that, plus the uncomfortable sense that some people are getting thisclose to going, "Most Jews are Zionists anyway, so YEAH, I DO think most Jews deserve to die."

[sadceline]

THE ENHYPEN HOST || 12

|| Reverse harem || ft. TXT, Mingyu (Seventeen) & BTS

WARNINGS: foul language, explicit content, group sex, humiliation, sex in public, threesome, foursoome, rough sex, red flags, immoral acts, unprotected sex, morbid jealousy, comedy, parody, possessiveness, violent quarrels, arguments, betrayals, lies, femdom sometimes.

GENRE: +18, reverse harem, comedy, enemy to lovers, friends to lovers

SUMMARY: You moved to Seoul to start over after a bad experience, and everything seems to be going well, you even manage to work for HYBE. You discover, however, that you owe them almost a billion won, money you don't have and don't know how to recover: but don't worry because Hybe itself offers you a solution.

Your body in exchange for paying off your debt.

Do you accept?

TRAILER 1

TRAILER 2

PREVIOUS CHAPTER:

FIRST CHAPTER:

Heeseung didn't understand what I said to him, and I don't know if it's because my korean isn't that good, as much as because maybe I didn't know what I was saying either.

"Heeseung, what you want from me?" I sigh, tired not of him, but of this weight I feel on my heart.

"Tomorrow.. don't fuck Niki too." He says it directly, even a little too directly.

"Except that with Niki, I wouldn't do it regardless, since he is a kid, but... what do you care? If you don't want to fuck me because others use me you certainly would have behaved differently tonight."

Heeseung suddenly moves closer to me, my breath stops. "I told you I made a mistake. I made a mistake."

"Why are you wasting your time like this? - I ask him, incredulous. - Heeseung on my room was a giant poster of you because it's probably true that I'm in love with you, because I've been betrayed and I don't have anyone else, so yes I probably clung to you, to your idea, but I didn't think I would ever really know you.- I sigh, look into his eyes and see that he is really surprised, really confused. - What I mean to say is.... if you want to have fun, then let's do it, like tonight if you like, but please stop making me think you care about me."

Maybe it's because I need sleep, maybe it's because my mind is too foggy, but at this point I can only be blunt. How dare he say that he is wrong? That he regrets it? A mistake?

Heeseung does not answer the merits of the question, however, he lifts a hand to caress me. "Why were you crying before? - He asks me, and for a second I think I just imagined giving that speech, but then I look at him bitterly. - I can't think of anything else, sorry." He says it bluntly.

"To... To the fact that I was crying?"

The young singer nods. "He... hugged you. He said it was just to fuck but he was hugging you."

"Heeseung!" I call to him angrily, he needs to stop.

"I'm sorry for what I did to you. I'm sorry... for every fucking thing. - He says, suddenly nervous, turning away from me and deglutinating. - It's true you could have refused but... why the fuck did I do that?"

"Heeseung, I don't understand you."

He looks at me confused, then seems to become lucid again. "I'm sorry you chose this path, Amanda."

Is he crazy?

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know... - He sighs, confused, nervously scratching the back of his head. - So you're not going to fuck Sunghoon, are you? And not Niki either? Jay is with your friend now, so..."

He's not wrong... but if I don't want to do it with Riki it's really because we're four years apart and I'd feel dirty.... Sunghoon let's not even talk about it, I can't tell if I'm angry or not about.... while Jay, it's true that he's off limits now...

"What if Sunghoon wants to fuck?" I ask him, annoyed. He's basically doing the opposite of what I asked him.

"You'll tell him no."

"I won't promise." I say, avoiding his gaze.

I'm actually serious, I don't know if I can promise it, but I do know that I want to see how far this shallow, scatterbrained guy in front of me will go.

"Are you kidding?"

"Only you can decide that he fucks me?"

"Amanda!"

"You pronounce it wrong."

"Don't change the subject."

"Heeseung can we get engaged?" I ask him point-blank, he looks at me shocked, seriously doesn't know what to say?

"Amanda..."

I smile, I smile because the way he says my name has an almost patronizing tone, I smile because I already know what he was going to say. "Exactly Heeseung, I don't promise. I can leave the apartment and find the money to pay but that will still never bring me to you. I can't risk leaving, I don't want to live for years just to repay that debt...and then.... We had a good time, didn't we?"

I no longer know what to do or say, I just want to sleep and forget every word exchanged with Heeseung, every kiss, every bite or caress...forget everything. I already feel heartbroken now, and the closer I am to him, the more it will hurt. The more I hear him say misunderstandable things, the more painful it will be.

Heeseung walks back to me, looks at me, then gives me a really sad look, and my heart trembles because of him.

"I want you to have fun only with me. No matter how much I think about it..."

I watch him in silence, not knowing what to say. I don't think he's lucid yet, he's talking a lot of nonsense and especially he hasn't listened to a word I've said. That's okay, maybe I should just think about protecting myself.... Heeseung, you, right now, seem much more dangerous than Sunghoon.

"It won't be like that, though." I answer, my voice trembling, but I manage to say it anyway.

Heeseung stares at me, surprised and annoyed. "Then it's not true that you are in love with me!"

"But do you always reason like this?"

Reasoning is perhaps not the right verb, since up to now he has acted as if he hasn't thought for a single second.

"Amanda..."

"Call me by my name when you can pronounce it."

"Teach me how to do that!"

"Lee Heeseung doesn't strike me as one to remember the names and pronunciations of his fans."

He looks at me again surprised, speechless this time. He doesn't respond, who knows what he's thinking...I lower my gaze first, turning away from him to leave and head for the bathroom.

"Amanda... even if I mispronounce it, I don't think I can forget your name." He says, with his back to me.

A shiver runs through my whole body, but when I turn to him I see him motionless as he continues to have his back to me. What should I say? What should I do? I feel like crying, I want to hug him and kiss him but.... Heeseung is simply not thinking tonight.

After all, he too is just a young kid, after all, he too will be shaken by the way things went tonight.

"I'm going to wash up." I just say.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

I pause briefly, biting my lip. "No."

I leave the room and close the door behind me, at which point I seem to be able to get air again, now that I am away from him. I collapse on my knees, sitting on the floor in the dark hallway, alone.

What if Heeseung is really naive enough to fall for a girl like me? Then I really have done everything wrong since I came here.

What are these tears? Sadness, disappointment? Or anger? What if they are all these things together?

After a very long shower, though tentative I return to Heeseung's room. He is still not sleeping, he is in the bathroom of his room - only he and Jungwon have one. I didn't want to go to Jay's room because that would be weird, so I'm still wearing Heeseung's sweatshirt.

I don't know which side I should sleep on, so I simply sit on the bed. The minutes go by and the fatigue becomes more and more unbearable, it was definitely a tiring day from the beginning.

Eventually I end up falling asleep, I don't even realize it because I lay all over the bed and who knows how long I continue sleeping. When I open my eyes again it is morning, although the light seems very dim behind the almost completely closed shutters of Heeseung's room.

He sleeps beside me, almost completely naked. When I notice this I jerk on the bed, but he does not notice and continues to sleep. As I suspected, I find myself practically in the middle of the bed, Heeseung seems to have fallen asleep on the edges so as not to wake me up.... but what.... does that mean?

Why does he pretend to be so sweet?

It's cold in the room, the air conditioner is on and it's very strong, if I feel cold then... he wearing only boxers, letting me see his magnificent, massive, slender body, will die of cold.

I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway seeing him -- like that. I get up being careful not to move the bed too much, get a blanket from the closet and put it on him, as I do so I can't help but stare at his beautiful face as he sleeps. He is so beautiful.

As I leave the room I look at Jay's bedroom door and sigh, I need to get some things... but should I do? I know it's not a problem for Ester, but should I?

I go to the kitchen, I need a water first. I have a headache and my mouth is dry, it tastes like alcohol and sex. I hear the sound of pans, I hear the sound of burning stoves - there is someone.... and why Jay?

He looks at me expressionless as he adds spices, then back to his stove. "Early bird."

I walk over to the fridge and grab a bottle of water. "Good morning."

"Morning." He answers coldly, I shiver.

"Ester... did everything go well?"

But why was that the first thing I asked? Because I'm a good friend, right? He looks at me almost tenderly, as if he almost feels pity, then smiles.

"What exactly do you want to know?"

I look away before drinking from the small bottle.

Jay chuckles again. "Did you have a good time tonight?"

Should I tell Jay what happened tonight? No... what good would that do? He seems like a completely different person with me by now, and maybe I should have expected that....

"You're not one to take advice, are you?"

I swallow, lowering my face. "You're so different..."

"And that surprises you?" He asks in an incredulous tone.

"I'm sorry."

But why am I apologizing? And for what?

"You said I looked different to you - he smiles, I can see that - but maybe you just thought I was an idiot."

I look at him surprised, not expecting that. No, it's all wrong. I've always-... always held him in high esteem, I've always thought he was really a genius, one of those who doesn't even need to put in the effort to do it, though, because his minimum is still the maximum compared to many others.

Why does he say things like that?

"It's not like that, Jay!" I say, but my voice is shaking.

"Ah no?"

"W-What was I supposed to do? Why are you all o-obsessed with screwing other people? That's why I'm here!"

What am I saying? Am I throwing myself down even more?

"Is that why you're here? - I see him smiling again, but he doesn't really seem amused. - Then I should use you too."

How can he say such things while simply cooking breakfast? I... I am so surprised that I don't even know how to react to his statement.

"Did you... Did you do that, with Ester?" I ask, again.

WHY do the words come out of my mouth on their own? Damn it Amanda, does this really seem like the time to do this?

"Yes, it was great. - He replies, sighing in amusement as he removes some pots and pans from the stove. - Wow, she's really, really bendy for such a little one."

I swallow nervously, why is he telling me these things? If what he says is true, then the idea of using me shouldn't even touch him--not Jay--not him, I don't allow him to be an asshole.

"G-Good for you." I say, taking a very long sip of water.

"She told me you're very chill with each other and it's not a problem if you fuck the same guys." He says nonchalantly.

I look at him even more surprised. "Not... not at the same time."

"She didn't say that. - Sighs Jongseong, after washing his hands, looking at me serious. - So let's not worry about it."

strike!

No, he needs to explain what he means! His idea sounds really perverse, I'm not going to participate against such a close good friend like her - but I don't have time to ask him that Sunghoon enters the kitchen and I stiffen.

Even he is surprised to see me, given the way he looks at me. I look away and so does he, saying nothing for the moment. He makes himself some coffee, doesn't even say good morning, the rude man.

Jay comes up to me, pushes me toward the chair. "Come on, eat."

Sunghoon glances sidelong at us, then sips his coffee in silence while looking at his cell phone.

"I'm not hungry..." I admit, under my breath, though I sit down anyway.

Jonseong glares at me. "No, you have to eat now. You drank a lot yesterday."

I lower my gaze, my stomach really clenched -- how could I eat after all that has happened? "I...okay..."

Sunghoon takes his of plate and sits in front of me, not saying anything, just starting to eat.

Jay doesn't sit with us, he eats from the stove, quickly. "I'm going to go now. - He explains, as he sets up the stove. He looks at me seriously. - Be careful today."

I have the chills, again. Today is the fourth shift, Niki's. Jay leaves, only Sunghoon and I remain, as soon as I hear the front door close I get up and leave.

"Eat." He says to me, after a while.

I don't even look at him. "Don't worry about me."

"Instead I do, do you want to stop me? Can you do that?" He is aggressive from the early hours of the morning.

"Did you sleep well?" I smile nervously.

Sunghoon laughs. "Actually no...my sleep was disturbed."

"Really? - I ask, my voice still shaking, but I'm also annoyed. I take some rice, bring it to my lips but don't eat it. - How come?"

He watches as I eat my bite, then sighs. "It was so hard that I couldn't sleep."

What. WHAT.

Sunghoon? What are you saying? Have you gone crazy too?

I look at him stiffly, surprised, confused, damn, even horny.

Entering the kitchen Jaeyun, already ready to leave, looks at me and literally my stomach clenches. I lay down my chopsticks and look down, Sunghoon witnesses the scene and snorts, again.

"So much noise tonight." He exclaims, sweeping me away.

Sunghoon laughs. "I didn't hear anything."

In fact, Jake's room is the closest to Heeseung's.

"Good morning." I say embarrassed.

Sunghoon seems to get impatient. "Yah, do you want to eat?"

"Stop saying that, it's not like I'm a child. If I'm hungry, I'll eat."

"How can a person not be hungry after... - He stops, laughs, laughs really amused, then quickly recomposes himself. - After four days, come on don't be a fucking kid."

Jake sits next to me, after getting his breakfast, his dishes are different from ours, maybe he doesn't eat normal things? Is Jay in charge of all this? Wow...he is so thoughtful....

No bad person would do things like that. But then what happened just now? Was he serious?

"The important thing is that you're okay." Jaeyun says relaxedly.

Sunghoon looks at him with disgust. "What?"

"Keep eating, come on." The boy tells him.

Not understanding what's going on, I sigh and grab more rice.

"Eat the meat, too." Sunghoon complains.

"Do you want to try this? - Jake asks me handing me a bite of his browned vegetables maybe, he brings it close to my mouth and I spontaneously open my mouth. - It's good." He says, as he watches me chew, after narrowing his gaze curiously.

"It is." I comment, surprised.

Sunghoon sneers annoyed, I savor the taste of Jay's cooking. Of course he's really good at cooking... his wife will be lucky.

"You look a little pale - Jake sighs as he looks at his plate - did Heeseung do something to you that you didn't want?"

"N-N...No..."

"You wanted it, didn't you?" Sunghoon asks amused.

I snort in annoyance. "Why do you have a different breakfast?" I ask, changing the subject.

"I asked Jay to make something light, I didn't feel like meat." He explains quietly.

"Jay takes care of you, doesn't he?" I ask, looking at the dish - even the plating is pretty.

Jungwon also enters the kitchen, is sleepy, rubs his eyes, and then gives me a cool smile. It's refreshing, it makes me feel better so I involuntarily reciprocate.

"Good morning." Says the leader.

"Good morning..." I smile briefly, going back to eating.

Jungwon approaches the kitchen and looks at the dishes in wonder. "Woah, today looks better than usual."

"It must be that he was in a good mood since he screwed Amanda's friend last night." Says Sunghoon, who eats slowly, as if he is not hungry.

I don't respond, I know he's provoking me. Wait... but how does he know they slept together? Was he listening to us or did Jay tell him? Or did he simply suspect it, knowing Jay much better than I do?

"Eat this too." Jake says, putting some condiments in my bowl.

I look at him, sighing. "Thank you Jaeyun..." My voice comes out thin, broken.

I feel guilty, but he doesn't seem angry. The guilt I guess is toward myself.

"How kind." Sunghoon clicks his tongue, observing us.

I take some of the seasonings he gave me and take a big bite. "Wah.. Jay is great."

Jungwon sits next to me, looks at my plate then smiles and starts eating. "Had a good night?" He asks me.

I can't tell if he's teasing me or if he's really naive, but if I'm wondering... it's probably the first.

"Yes, thank you..."

"Has Heeseung been harassed? He usually sleeps naked. - As I was swallowing the mouthful, choking, Jungwon amusedly hands me the water bottle opened by him. - Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

He says this, and I notice that he has different eyes, very different from how I've always seen them from photos, from the Weverse live he does. Jungwon... he doesn't look as innocent as I thought, and the way he looks at me proves it. I'm... honored? embarrassed? I don't know, but he is really very handsome and has a really elegant face.

"I told you to eat." He reminds me of Sunghoon as I continue to stare at Jungwon's profile.

"Are you worrying now? Are you being thoughtful?" Sighs Jake, annoyed.

"Why don't you mind your own business?"

Before the situation worsens, Niki also arrives in the kitchen, who - unlike Heeseung - not only sleeps almost naked but also walks around in it. He is undoubtedly quite a sight....

He makes himself some coffee without bothering to say good morning to anyone, to tell the truth I don't feel particularly agitated, perhaps because I'm pretty sure he doesn't give a damn about spending time with me.

Fortunately, I dare say.

"Did you wake up early? - Niki asks me, not actually looking at me as he speaks but I'm sure he's addressing me. - You should have rested well, considering the day ahead."

His deep, warm voice, completely discordant with the fact that he is only a kid, truth be told, makes me agitated. He will turn 19 in december but he remains a child, however ethereal, enchanting, simply breathtakingly beautiful.

"What?" Jake asks instead of me, taking the words out of my mouth.

"What?" Niki asks, his expression serious but his tone almost ironic.

"You... what are you planning to do today?"

"I have to go sign some releases, then I have to stop by Hybe to meet a lawyer. - He explains quietly, eating breakfast standing behind the counter. - Then I have a lunch and a few other commitments in the afternoon. I need a secretary..."

Jungwon looks at him surprised. "A lawyer?"

"A lunch with whom?" Sunghoon asks.

"My lawyer is no good anymore, he's been creating a lot of damage for me lately."

"Aren't you going to answer me?" The ice prince asks again.

I can't believe it. Has everyone gone crazy? I don't know what to think, unless it's all a dream, I just don't understand.

"Isn't enough for you to know that they are my friends?" The japanese boy asks.

"Just because of that."

"Ah, hyung - sighs the maknae, amused. - You make me really want to hang out with my shady friends."

Sunghoon gets up from the table, glaring at him. "What friends? And why does she have to come?"

"What? You guys can carry her around like a puppy but I can't? At least with me she will really fulfill her duties...you are just annoying her."

Jake pulls his plate away from the front, smiling nervously. "Are you finished? With your skit I mean."

"What duties are you talking about?" Sunghoon asks again, completely ignoring the rest of the speech.

I look at him dumbly... why is he doing this? Couldn't this reaction of his perhaps give me some clues? Niki's friends, actually are the TXTs, but he probably has lots of other friends so it seems unlikely to me that it's lunch with them.

But Sunghoon?

"You know which ones I'm talking about." Niki laughs.

I paralyze myself. He's joking, it's obvious but why am I uncomfortable anyway?

"You can't carry her around." Jaeyun says.

"I'll say she's one of the staff."

"Isn't she a little too pretty to be one of the staff?" Questions Jungwon, who just said I'm cute! Oh he is so sweet... or not?

"Just cover her face, but as for clothes - says Riki, addressing me in that sensual warm voice - wear whatever you want."

"No, she can't wear what she wants." Sunghoon replies, annoyed.

"Yes, we will be careful."

I made a mistake once by dressing provocatively while "dating" Heeseung but now that I know Riki's plans, and the fact that he wants to go to the agency, I will have to dress very anonymously...so the discussion is pointless.

"Don't worry about my outfit." I sigh, eating the side dishes... I no longer crave rice...I prefer to enjoy the cooking, the preparations of the side dishes prepared by Jay's hands.

Now that I know him permanently away from me, now that I know that an irreparable chasm has formed between us, I feel very lonely. No matter what Heeseung says or how much Jake or Sunghoon pretend to care about me, I feel lonely without Jay.

Perhaps because he seemed to be the only one who could be trusted.

I guess he just wanted to scare me a little because I let him down....

"Go get ready noona - Riki tells me, biting into a slice of toast - let's go soon."

"She's still eating breakfast." Jungwon says.

I stand up, actually, maybe it's better to stop eating the stuff Jay prepared, every bite seems to break my heart. "No, it's okay.. I'm done. Thanks for breakfast." I say, taking my plate.

"Are you hurry to go have fun with your customer today?" Sunghoon asks me, obviously making me uncomfortable.

The leader glares at him. "Come on, don't be an asshole."

Jake sighs annoyed. "You always have something to say, don't you?"

"What, are you her knights that you have to defend her?" The ice bastard laughingly asks.

"How childish you are." Sighs Jungwon, though he is amused, I can tell.

Why do I get these strange vibes from him? Yet until today I thought he was a naive, sweet boy.... But now he doesn't seem so innocent.

"I feel like you haven't understood that you don't have to talk when I'm around." Sighs Niki, setting down his slice of bread.

Sunghoon walks around the table, going next to the younger man. "What the fuck did you say?" He has a serious, full voice.

"Hey hey!" Jungwon calls them back, placing a hand on Sunghoon's chest.

I stand in front of the japanese man who looks like he's about to go at him, looking at him sternly. "What are you doing?"

"Aren't you telling him anything?" He asks me, confidentially.

I am surprised but also... happy? "Forget it... he's just a hypocrite." I say, pretending to be calm.

Sunghoon sneers in disbelief. "Sorry, what?"

"Do you really have the nerve to ask that?" I ask him.

Sunghoon seems to calm down physically but continues to give me a nervous expression; he is not uncomfortable he is simply pissed off at me. He is just mad but why?

"I'll go get ready." I say, tired.

I've had little sleep, I'm pissed off as well, plus I don't know what to expect from Niki. Still, though, he strikes me as someone you can talk to... maybe he's just playing up to his hyungs.

Riki comes with me, leaving the kitchen, however instead of returning directly to his room he follows me. I only notice when I get to Jay's room, he is smiling strangely.

"Noona, wear a short skirt today." He whispers to me, amused.

I pale, surprised, backing away. "What?"

"It's hot outside."

I remain silent, not quite sure what to think. "Why?"

"I like skirts. I also liked the dress you had on last night--wear something like that."

"Niki so I'll catch your attention right away!"

"I'll give you one of my coats, it's so big to covers you all over. - He says, running his tongue across his perfect, white teeth. - You won't even get out of the car most of the time anyway."

"But...then why should I dress like this?"

He looks at me seriously for a second, as if he doesn't understand what I just said, then smiles again. "We have to go to lunch later, shall we?"

Um, I'm scared. I don't feel like dressing skimpily while I'm in a restaurant with him... isn't that simply and obviously too dangerous?

I swallow, backing away a few more steps. "You're not going to.. do strange things, are you?" I ask him, alarmed.

Niki thins his already very sharp gaze, seeming to be annoyed by the question. "They don't seem so strange to me."

I...don't know what to say. How am I supposed to argue if he keeps giving me half-answers?

"I'm... serious."

Niki comes up to my ear and touches it. "Just go get ready, noona. Put on something nice, don't make me bad impression." Niki's voice is warm, but when he whispers... he seems to touch all the way to the fucking soul.

Make a bad impression on whom? Ah, maybe his friends. Of course, someone like Nishimura Riki must have friends of TXT's caliber, surely many others of his own idol generation... I should make myself look good no matter what.

"O....Ok..." I say, feeling...small, but I'm older than him.

Riki goes back to his room, I.... I have to maximize my time, I can't take two hours like yesterday. I get underwear from Jay's room, take an outfit from Heeseung's room (who is still asleep), and then get ready in the bathroom outside.

I am quite satisfied with my outfit:

guys sorry for the bad quality with shein logo but it's just an experiment

It's sexy, but it's also cute, plus I don't have any fancier stuff with me so this is the best I can do. I wonder for several minutes whether I should wear a bra or not, the shirt being very tight and with a somewhat transparent fabric, but the truth is that I don't want.... maybe also because it was Heeseung who told me not to wear it, so as not to ruin my breasts.

I would rather not wear it, so I don't. It certainly won't be a bra that will instigate Niki, I'm not going to do anything with him, that's my position and I'm not going to change my mind.

When I come out of the bathroom, prepared and perfumed, I look at myself in the mirror and don't know how to get into Heeseung's room, since I left my cell phone charging. I pull myself together and go in, he is no longer in bed and the door to his bathroom is closed...should I leave without even saying goodbye? That seems a bit excessive to me....

But isn't calling him just to say hello just as inappropriate? What should I do?

Meanwhile, I go to get my cell phone, which should be on the bedside table but isn't there. I am...surprised? In fact I might as well have imagined putting it on charge, however my charger is actually attached.

"Looking for this?" Heeseung asks me, seeing me crawling to check under the bed and between the bed frame and the mattress.

Holding my cell phone, I glare at him. "How did you unlock it?"

"I saw when you were entering the code. Whose date of birth is it?" He admits bluntly as he approaches me.

I rise, sighing. "You shouldn't take someone's phone without their permission."

"But how did you get dressed? Where are you going? - He asks me, noticing my attire; he is still in his pajamas. - Are you going with Niki?"

"Yes but look we're not going to do anything." I sigh - but what do I do? Do I justify myself to him? Why do I feel so in awe?

"You tell me dressed like that? And then the bra-"

"Didn't you say not to use it? - I smile. - And I don't owe you any explanation anyway. I've told you too much too."

Heeseung looks at me stunned for several seconds, wow.... it's so beautiful already from the morning, it really leaves me at a loss for words. Stop staring at me like that... you're simply irresistible.

"Really?" He asks me, serious.

I swallow confused. "What?"

"You're not going to do anything with him?" He asks again, moving closer to me as his eyes narrow sensually on me.

"Riki is just a k-kid, I d-did tell you." I stammer, unable to ignore the fact that I want him so badly, even at this moment, and he is so close....

He caresses me, the tips of our noses touching. "Wouldn't you like to do that with everyone? - He asks me in a whisper. - Wouldn't you like to be used only by me, all the time?"

Oh fuck. My knees almost give out and how hot all of a sudden.. He notices that I am flustered, but instead of pulling away and letting me catch my breath, he kisses me. He kisses me as usual, using his tongue in such a...dirty...way.

"He...Hees..." He doesn't leave me time to speak.

He squeezes my breasts as he begins greedily licking my neck too, kissing me, biting me. "You can also just be my...little slut."

Damn this little kid! But how can he be horny 9after all the times he... came... last night? And why does he have to be so good, too? Why do I want to sink into him the more I'm in his arms?

"Hees..seung...st...stop..." I moan, he will end up smearing my makeup, and now because of him my nipples are so hard, besides being completely wet.

"You said you won't do it with Niki, right?" He asks again, biting my nipple and making me wince in pain.

"No...I don't."

He knows full well that sucking on my shirt will leave a halo of saliva, but he starts to do it anyway, I plug my mouth as I moan softly. I don't want them to hear us, again.

"I like when you're obedient." He says, amused, as he slips a hand between my legs and begins to masturbate me.

I gasp, embarrassed. "Stop it."

They knock, rather impetuously, too.

Heeseung does not move his hand, in fact, he moves it faster, I cover my mouth with both hands.

"Amanda, come out. We have to go."

"She's coming." Heeseung answers for me, continuing to masturbate shamelessly, while outside poor unsuspecting Riki waits. The door is not closed, but the young man has not opened it.

"S-Sto..." I whisper but eventually only moans come out.

"Look I'm going in in two seconds."

Heeseung sucks on my skin at the level of my collarbone, leaving yet another mark, the deranged man is seriously branding me but I'm letting him, as I enjoy his fingers.

"Where will you go?" Heeseung ask.

"To have fun." He only answers, Niki, and the ace seems to mind his mysteriousness, he's just going faster and faster and deeper with his fingers inside my pussy, as my pleasure wets both my panties and my shorts under my skirt, I'm about to have a clitoral orgasm

What is it that you can't do, Lee Heeseung?

"When are you coming back?" He asks again.

"Who knows."

Heeseung bites my nipple again, hard, it really hurts but then.. he starts sucking on it, continuing to make me enjoy myself, I am upset again because of him. I cling to his shoulders as I come, red in the face and my eyes out of their sockets.

My God.

"All right, I'm coming in, then." He says.

I, startled, push Heeseung away, turning my back and falling to the floor like a damned idiot. "Fuck!" I exclaim.

Niki enters the room, seeing me on the floor, reaches for me and so does Heeseung, both of them suddenly holding out their hands to me. I stand staring at their hands shocked...what the... hell?

"Noona, did he hit you?" Riki spontaneously asks me, as if it were a perfectly probable thing.

The older man looks at him offended and indignant. "Do you want to die?"

"No...I fell, sorry." I say, using my hair to hide my nipples and the damn hickey.

Since I don't take either of their hands, Niki grabs me by the wrists and lifts me up as if I weighed nothing -- lifting me up, however, my chest is totally under his gaze, as are the patches of saliva around my stiff nipples. He looks me in the face and then shakes his head contritely.

"Aish, noona...can't you just be good?"

Would that be my fault? Well, maybe...a little bit.... No! What am I saying!

"Yah, I asked what time are you coming back?"

"I said I don't know." Sighs Riki, placing a hand on my hip, very close to my, uh, ass.

Heeseung, visibly irritated, grabs me by the arm and pulls me away from him. "I saved my number on your phone - he says, moving closer to my ear - I also took some pictures. Don't think strange things and be careful, no one has my number."

Riki doesn't like that we keep talking because he grabs me by the wrist and drags me away, I can only stay staring at Heeseung as long as I'm allowed. Really? Do I have his number now? Lee Heeseung's number?

All while Nishimura Riki drags me along?

Never mind, I'm really starting to believe I'm dreaming.

"So... - I ask, after he gives me his coat, even though it's way too hot to wear it, and after we get into the elevator, we go straight to the parking lot. - What's up?"

He looks at me surprised, then turns around offended. "Don't talk to me, noona."

"W-Why?"

"You were letting Heeseung touch you during my shift."

"This is grown-up stuff, Riki..." I sigh, tired.

"Don't treat me like a child just because you're a few years older."

"Did you want a serious answer?"

He doesn't answer me, he proceeds first and I follow in silence, I think I've annoyed him. I thought Niki was a little less crazy than the others.

Instead I end up being shocked when I see his incredibly attractive driver. He's a really good-looking middle-aged man, I can't stop looking at him... he looks like an actor but he's just Niki's driver.... This is unbelievable.

The man looks at me and I swallow, Niki opens the door behind me and waves me in, I comply.

"Do you really let Heeseung treat you like that? What about Sunghoon? - He asks me, after he too has taken a seat and waved the driver to leave. - Just because you want to fuck them? Or do you just like it because they use you and then insult you?"

I blush at his language, perhaps because I really see him as little more than a teenager. I... I can't honestly deny it, but I refrain. "Niki, I honestly don't get it."

He huffs, is offended but strangely says nothing more and gets on his cell phone. I look at mine and still can't believe I have that fool's number! Does he really? Why does he keep raising the bar?

It will get more and more painful, but for the moment, I am so infatuated with this whole situation that I cannot lucidly draw the obvious conclusions.

During the morning, we stop at two different places, but I practically stay in the car the whole time, alone with the driver...it's very awkward but he remains professional and never turns toward me, so I can observe him the whole time quietly.

By mid-morning I feel deeply bored, moreover, I thought I would enter Hybe but he left me in the car again.

I suddenly remember that Heeseung said he had taken pictures! I run to open the gallery and....

Ah.

Heeseung you are a pig.

Oh my... but this is the first time I've seen him so well, and he's just magnificent. He's got the color of his skin, he's thick and homogeneous, he looks like... sort of like a.. baguette?

Even the fact that he's holding it with that beautiful hand of his, with his thick fingers, while you can see veins on his wrist. Oh my... ok...I'm really turned on.

I close the phone, I just turn it off. Oh my god.

Damn it Lee Heeseung, is that really all you think about? And why the hell do I like it?

I turn it back on shortly after because while waiting I don't know what to do.

When Niki gets back to the car he has two glass, they look like bubble tea - it's actually a japanese drink, so I smile thinking that still he remains a kid from Okayama who likes snacks from his area.

"Here, I didn't know what flavor you preferred so I got a fruit one and a classic - he says, making himself comfortable next to me. - Pick the one you want, I like both."

I love this drink, I like it all ways, however I would actually prefer fruity flavors, I love green tea, in short... I think I have already chosen.

"Can I really?" I ask him, visibly excited.

Riki doesn't answer me right away, just stares at me and then coughs. "Yes."

I take the more colorful glass, then Riki waves the driver to start up again. Wow, this bubble tea is really outstanding, I love the gelatinous texture of these bubbme, I'm really enjoying it. Even Niki notices, as he looks at me amused.

"Do you like it?"

I compose myself, sitting up nicely. "Yes, quite."

"You make a very cute face when you drink it. I'll buy it for you more often."

I smile spontaneously, not only because I like bubble tea but also because it would be nice if Niki and I could be friends, right? Maybe this is the one thing that could maybe actually happen.

"Ah...thank you."

"I'll pick up something from a friend now and then we'll go to lunch." He tells me, looking back at his phone.

I get a message, a shudder thinking it might be Hees.... No, it's Heeseung! He saved himself in the phonebook as "Star boy".

Star boy: What are you doing for lunch, where are you going?

I don't know what to answer - I don't know how I could answer him. Am I still in awe of him despite the fact that he has literally fucked me in every way? What kind of strange chemical reaction is this?

Niki takes the phone out of my hand, looking me annoyed. "I'm talking to you."

"Excuse me! - I answer quickly, surprised by my own reaction. - I don't..."

"Do you want it? - He asks, bringing my cell phone closer to me with one hand. - Why don't you take it?"

It seems playful, joking, I see no harm in it. Although he says it in a terribly sensual way, it's not her fault, it's her silly, deep, sexy voice.

"Come on... - I laugh naively, approaching him and trying to take it but without too much agonism, I know he'll give it back to me in a little while. - Don't be like that, I swear I won't use it-" I paralyze myself seeing him shove it inside his jeans.

"Come on, noona, take it."

Out of the corner of my eye I look at the driver, this time, from the mirror I see he's looking at me too. Oh no, what! What is Niki doing in front of this man? In fact, what is Niki just doing!

"Riki but what are you... are you doing?" I laugh, nervous, uncomfortable.

"Do you want a hand? - He asks me, then unbuttons his own flap. - Here, you do the rest."

"L-Look, I'm much older than you! And then - I whisper - in front of this man?"

Niki grabs me by the waist, pulling me closer to him, then starts squeezing my nipples, and I like an idiot do nothing to stop him, while the driver, keeps looking at us.

"Stop it Niki!"

"Just call me Riki, noona." Says the kid, grabbing my hand and bringing it to his cock, I feel the phone.

"Look.. I.. - I try to talk but he kisses my neck and he's really good for just a little kid. - Ri..Riki..."

"You like it, don't you? - He asks, amused by my humiliation, here's yet another sadist. He pulls away my phone and insert my hand in its place, forcing me to move it along his erection to give him pleasure. - You really like it."

"No... Riki I don't want to." I try to force myself, pulling away but he prevents me and I realize he is laughing, laughing heartily.

"Noona... why are you resisting? You know too that the only thing you want is to be fucked all the time...do you want to refuse today? That's fine with me, but next week I'll fuck you twice as hard, to the point where you won't even be able to stay up."

E-Eh?

Did I really hear... did I really hear right? Is this guy with the expression of a mad kid in front of me really serious? Judging by how hard he is, I think so.

"Noona... you're here to let me use you too, and I'm looking forward to it. If you fight it, it's just more fun for me.. in fact, maybe you should do it."

NEXT CHAPTER:

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

will you upload ruin again 👀

Ruin(1)*

OMG WAIT YOURE GENIUS

pairing: gynaecologist harry x innocent reader

warnings: smut, corruption, sort of forced orgasm but not really kinda idk

summary: an innocent YN goes into her very first gynaecology appointment unsure of what she should expect. her visit is certainly out of the norm

~

YN is sitting nervously on the exam table, reading all the posters on the wall as her leg is unable to stop bouncing. Her nails have been bitten below the skin and goosebumps are all over her arms and legs.

The second the nurse came in and told her to undress from the waist down and place the towel over her legs, YN's heart went into overdrive.

She'd never done this before, this was her first gynaecologist visit. She's been taking deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves but nothing is working.

She looks over at her pretty yellow dress and ponders leaving out now and just trying again another day. Internally scolding herself, YN decides to stay, and if she gets too afraid she'll leave.

After about five minutes of dreading the rest of the appointment, she hears a gentle knock on the door. Her heart practically stops, muttering a small 'come in'.

As the door opens, she expects to see an old, wrinkly man enter the room to look inside her vagina, but what she sees immediately takes her breath away. She sees a man no older that 30 years old enter the room, short curly hair and green eyes. He smiles at her, dimples on display.

Her heart stutters as her eyes travel down his body, stopping at his hands that he's rubbing hand sanitizer into. "Hello, there. You must be YN. I'm Dr. Styles, but you can call me Harry" he says, reaching out to shake her hand. YN greets him and introduces herself as Harry picks up her visit chart, plopping down on the small rolling chair and sliding toward her.

"Okay, it says here that you're just in for a routine checkup. Is that right?" he asks, eyes skimming over the paper before him. He looks up to see her nodding at him, a playful scowl settling on his lips. "I'm gonna need your words, honey" he says.

Even more nervous than before, YN mutters a soft 'yes, sir' and Harry can immediately feel his cock twitching in his slacks.

"I'm just joking, Love" he chuckles, standing from the chair. "Alright, I'm gonna need you to place your feet into the stirrups, and once I wash my hands we can get going" he says, helping her spread her legs and get them into position. He can't help but glance down at her vagina, a fair amount of dark hair covering her pubic area.

Fuck, Harry has never been more turned on in his life. He literally sees vaginas and beautiful women every day, but there's just something about YN that makes him feral. He can even see her puffy clit peeking out from between her folds, wanting nothing more than to swipe his tongue through them to get a taste of her.

"Okay, on your chart is says that you're a virgin. Is that correct?" he asks, getting a small nod from her. "Alright, I just needed to know for the size speculum we should start off with, nothing to worry about" he says, just thinking about stretching out her virgin pussy and pounding into her until she's creaming around his cock.

Harry shakes his head, trying to rid his mind of the crude thoughts about his patient, heading to the sink to wash his hands thoroughly before grabbing a pair of gloves and snapping them on.

Once he's all done, he sits back in the low chair and slides all the way over to her, placing his hands on her knees gently. A small frown makes its way onto his face as he feels how tense she is.

"Hey, YN, is this your first time at the gynaecologist?" he asks softly, not wanting to embarrass her. She nods gently, and Harry's heart aches at the scared girl before him. "Well that's alright, I'm just gonna need you to relax a bit for me, can you do that?" he asks.

She relaxes slightly beneath his hands, but it isn't enough, so Harry takes matters into his own hands. "Honey, I'm sorry, but you're not relaxed enough. If you're not relaxed enough, the speculum is going to hurt going in. Do I have your permission to help you relax?" he asks, a small amount of guilt running through him at what he was about to do to the poor, innocent girl.

She nods and he sighs, his blood pumping through his body quickly at what he was about to do. Reaching up, he runs his hands up and down her thighs, massaging them gently. With each stroke, he gets closer and closer to her center.

"Okay, honey, I'm gonna spread you open a bit, okay?" he asks, looking up at her to make sure she's okay. When he sees that she is, he spreads her folds gently with his fingers, a small groan leaving him at the precious area. His cock gets even harder as he sees her tiny hole, just begging to be stretched by him.

With the spreading of her lower lips, Harry can see all of her puffy clit, just wanting to take it into his mouth and suck on it until she can't take anymore. Clearing his throat, he reaches between the folds and presses a finger directly onto her clit. YN gasps at the feeling, shock running through her body at the unfamiliar feeling.

Before she can even get used to it, Harry is rubbing around the head, getting a moan out of her. Her head is thrown back against the parchment paper of the exam table, wetness starting to accumulate between her folds. Harry notices immediately since it's in his line of sight.

"Oh, poor baby. Is it getting all wet and tingly down there?" he coos, chuckling when he gets a yes and a moan from her. "It's okay, baby. That's what we want. That's what's gonna help you relax" he says, applying a bit more pressure to the throbbing nub before pulling back and taking off his gloves.

Once they're off, he swipes a finger through her folds before working on her clit once more, YN sobbing out in pleasure at the feeling. "Does that feel good, honey?" he asks, speeding up a bit. Her eyes are squeezed shut and she's whining out a yes, nodding her head furiously. "I know, baby. It's almost over" he says, rubbing at the exact same pace and using the same amount of pressure to get her to orgasm.

"Harry, wait. I feel something in my tummy. It burns" she whines, squirming to avoid his ministrations.

"Good, baby. That's what we want" he says, placing his other hand on her hips to hold her down. She's screaming out in pleasure as he forces her to take everything he's giving her. After a minute more of rubbing her sensitive clit, she's stiffening up and her hole is clenching around nothing as she cums from just him rubbing her clit.

"Yes, baby. Just like that. Cumming so good for me" he praises, still rubbing her clit until she's all the way down. Once she's down, he removes his hand and licks all of her essence off of his fingers, moaning at the taste. He watches her as the aftershocks of her very first orgasm shoot through her body, a smile on his face at the things running through his mind.

Harry is going to ruin this sweet girl.

~

[warmaidensrevenge]

It's not a never.

Pairings: Eddie x fem!best friend Plus size reader

A/N: Happy Sunday loves. Here I present the final part in this series. It's a bit steamy if you ask me. So ready your naughty bits. As always thanks for reading. Please feel free to share and comment your thoughts. It really gives me a boost of dopamine that I crave. So anything is awesome. Kay love ya. Byyyyyeeee.

I do not give permission for my work to be posted anywhere else. Please respect all creators. Also, all pictures and songs are from a Google search and found on Spotify. A huge thank you and credit to the original posters and artists.

Word count: 3,824

Warnings: 18+ No minors please. Angst, language, sexual implications, sexual situations, p&v, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex and mentions of alcohol use. Not proof read

Part 4: Right now

Summary: Time goes by. But feelings still remain.

The farewell was in fact unbearable. It hurt Eddie like hell. But what hurt the most was a year after. College life became hectic for you. Which caused letters and phone calls to lessen. 

Then the guys got a big break. It was a small record label with very little rapport. But it was one he had a good feeling about. They made a deal for one full album and a few shows to promote it. 

It was a very busy year that turned into two. Then three.

Before any of them knew it, they were playing sold out shows. 

Things were working out. His dreams were coming true. But he never forgot about that girl with the sweet little smile. Though it has been some time since he saw it. He was fortunate enough to see it again one summer night in that third year.

The band was performing at one of their favorite places one hot night. They loved it because it was on a rooftop. Where they could see most of the city.

Tonight though, Eddie could only focus on the pretty girl with the small smile he almost forgot if it weren't for the prom picture he kept in his wallet.

The second the set was over, he jumped off the stage and ran to you. Obviously dodging the groupies and fans asking for autographs.

You yelped when he embraced you. Surprised when he picked you up a little.

“ Oh shit! I can't believe this!” He said when he planted you back down. 

You giggled. “Hi Eddie.”

He leaned back a little and grinned like crazy. “ When did-” He was cut off by the rest of his buddies.

He took a few steps back to let everyone have their turn with you. To be honest he needed the minute to get over the shock of seeing you. 

One thing led to another and you guys went out for drinks then ended up back at their apartment.

The whole night you guys were hanging off each other. Loving glances were shared and every word you said sounded like a love spell to him. And that didn't end when it was just you two.

Everyone else went to bed and he wasn't tired at all. So why end the night? Who knows when he was gonna see you again.

“ Ehem. So Eddie?” You said, putting your half empty glass on the coffee table. “ How many times do I have to squeeze your thigh to get you to kiss me?”

He laughed nervously.

You gave him a sexy sly grin. “ Common I've been flirting with you all night.”

He cleared his throat and smirked while you moved closer to him. It was true. You were flirting. He was too. And he shouldn't have. 

You reached up to move his bangs to the side. After you rested your hand much closer to his genitals. 

He quickly put a hand on yours. Just in case you decided to touch him further. “ Ummm…” he mumbled and met your beautiful eyes.

If things were different, he wouldn't question a damn thing and take you right here and now. Maybe even on the floor and the kitchen counter. Definitely fuck you in the shower and again on his bed. But he couldn't.

He exhaled. “ I'm kinda seeing someone.”

You practically jumped back. Pulling your hand away in the process. He could see how red you were getting from embarrassment.

“ Crap! Ed- I'm…uhhhh I'm sorry. I should go.”

You stood up and without thinking he grabbed your arm and stood up too.

“ No! I mean. Please don't go.”

You looked at him and shook your head. “ No I should. I've embarrassed myself enough for a lifetime.”

You tried to go but he gently pulled you back and cupped the sides of your face. 

“ Common kid. Don't be embarrassed. I was flirting too.” He hung his head a little. “ I shouldn't have but…it's you.”

He felt your warm soft hands on his. Making him meet your eyes. 

“ Eddie I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come and -”

“ No. You did nothing wrong. It was me. I should've said I was seeing someone sooner…but seriously, don't go. I-I've missed you…So fuckin much.”

You bit your lip and nodded. “ Okay. But you have to sit on the other side of the couch.”

He dropped his hands and held onto yours. “ Yeah, or I'm gonna have to make a phone call and become single.”

Your eyes widened. “ I'm flattered, but probably don't do that.”

You both grinned at one another before returning to the couch. Talking until the sun came up.

For Eddie it was heartbreaking saying goodbye to you that next morning. You were still that funny, sweet, affectionate girl from highschool. You were still the person he could talk to for hours without a care in the world. And he remembered the love that he still had for you. 

What he learned last night was that you were so busy with school that you didn't have time to date. He also found out that college was much harder than you thought it was gonna be. So hard that you changed your major twice.

Eventually, you found something you really saw yourself doing. Career wise that is. And he was happy for you. Just like how you were happy for him and the guys. 

Still, there was still something between you two. Something he wished he could explore. Something that just flowed with you. It was as if you guys picked up from where you left off.

It irked him. It bothered him so much that he actually opened up to his girlfriend about it. 

At first she was quiet, then she got pissed. Eventually, she calmed down and broke up with him. And to be honest it didn't really affect him that much. Sure he liked her. She was fun to be around. But after talking to you, he realized he never had a decent conversation with her. It was just partying and sex mostly. 

It wasn't her fault though. It was him. He never cared to open up to anyone besides his friends. Maybe it was because he thought no one would understand or get him. Get his quirks or quips. They probably wouldn't get his music tastes or like his nerdy side. Or maybe he didn't want anyone to. Perhaps it was because he still had hope for you. Hope that was instilled in him over the best pancakes in the world.

Either way it would be another 4 years until he would see you again.

…

Jeff was getting married. To Connie, in Hawkins. Everyone was invited and Eddie, Gareth and Grant were his groomsmen. They were all his best men cuz he couldn't choose one. 

Which was such a grueling task. Helping with the wedding and planning a bachelor party took up a lot of time. 

But besides all that, Eddie was looking forward to seeing one guest. One very important guest. The pretty girl he's been corresponding to for the past four years. 

He got in touch after you left New York. And kept up contact. He didn't want to disconnect again. Lose you again.

Though nothing was ever said about getting together, he anticipated that after the wedding he was gonna leave with you. Finally getting to that right now you had mentioned seven years ago.

-

He was near the entrance of the church, saying his hellos with the rest of the wedding party when he saw you. 

Everything around him seemed to slow down as you exited the car and fixed your royal blue dress. You looked around and smiled at the people you knew. Then you went to help your mom out of the car. 

He absolutely could not look away. You were a knockout. Absolutely gorgeous. 

What were the chances he could sneak you out of the party and make love somewhere? Maybe he could convince you to leave early. 

He suddenly felt a jab in the ribs. 

“ Ouch! What the fu-” he groaned as he looked at Gareth who was nodding towards Jeff's grandma. “ Oh right!” He uttered, holding out his elbow for her. “ Hello there young lady, I am to escort you to your VIP spot.”

She hit him with an ohh you and took his arm. He looked back to see if he could catch your eye. But it wasn't until the ceremony that he did. 

With a big smile you lifted your hand. Giving him a little wave. He smirked and looked down. Continuing down the aisle. 

Damn! He thought. He really wanted you to be a part of the wedding party.

Originally you were, but you had just started a new job and couldn't get away for rehearsals or any planning. So you opted to only be a guest. Which sucked for him because now he had to look at the happy couple instead of staring at you.

Once he got to the altar he met your gaze again. He knew he must look crazy grinning the way he was. But he didn't care. The girl he was in love with was in the same town, at the same place he was. And he was gonna make sure he left with you.

-

The vows and I do’s were said and the pastor gave the bride and groom the go ahead for a kiss. 

Eddie looked over at you and you had tears of joy falling from your eyes. He pulled out his  handkerchief and took a few steps towards you. Asking for the person sitting in front of you to hand it off. 

You blushed and wiped the tears away while he went back to his spot. Gareth nudged him, but he didn't care. He had to make sure you were good. 

At this point he would do anything for you. He would give anything to be with you. He'd say anything and everything he could just to see you smile. And for a second he pictured what his life would be like with you.

Applause broke out and he clapped along as Jeff and Connie walked back down the aisle together. Once they were at the end, the guys and bridesmaids followed. 

He looked at you again and you were talking to your dad. However, you met his eyes as he passed and mouthed a thank you. 

He nodded and planned on circling back around so that he could get to you. Unfortunately, he had to go in the limo as soon as they walked out. 

Apparently word mysteriously got out that Jeff was getting married. So there were paparazzi and a handful of fans waiting outside the chapel. 

It was a good thing that they had security on standby just in case this happened. 

Everyone was escorted into the car and rushed off.

Jeff was pissed but Connie calmed him down. Saying that to not let it ruin their day. 

Eddie smiled to himself. He was happy for his friend. Jeff had found the girl he was meant to be with. Even with the band getting bigger and the crazy schedules. One of his best friends got to spend the rest of his life with someone who calmed him. Who accepted him for all that he is and truly made him happy. 

Eddie was a little envious of it. Still, he was completely overjoyed for his buddy. 

He wanted that. More than anything, he wanted you. So it was his prerogative to be with you.

-

Everyone had to show their invitations to get into the dance hall. But once in, the music was going and drinks were being served. 

Eddie waited patiently by the door. Nearly jumping up and down. Excited to finally get to talk to you. 

While giving security your invitation you locked eyes with him and smiled from ear to ear. 

You looked away for a second then followed your parents in. 

He said hello to everyone as they made their way down the line to the newly Weds. Finally it was your dad's turn. They shook hands and your mom was next.

“ Why hello there, gorgeous. You are a vision.”

Victoria blushed and gave him a playful smack. “ Stop it.”

He laughed and gave her a hug. 

At last, it was your turn. 

“ Hi Eddie.”

He stood there with his lips together and an eyebrow raised. Giving you his flirtatious smile. “ Hi baby.”

You tilted your head to the side and raised both brows. “ Baby?”

He beamed at you and grabbed your hand. Pulling you closer to him. “ Yeah. You're my baby girl now.” 

Before you could say anything, he pulled you into a long warm hug. Rocking you from side to side. Making you laugh.

Grant cleared his throat. “ Alright Munson, you're holding up the line.”

You pulled away but he didn't want to let you go. He gave your hand one last squeeze before releasing it. His eyes never left you as you finally made it down to Jeff and Connie. 

He smiled as you took Connie's hand and twirled her around. Clearly admiring how beautiful she looked in her gown. Then you gave her hug. Moving on to the groom. He chuckled seeing you and Jeff do your nerdy handshake before hugging.

Afterwards, everyone sat down to eat. Eddie of course didn't want to sit with the rest of the party. Not while you were just a few feet away. He grabbed his plate and his beer and went to sit next to you. 

“ Eddie…Connie's is gonna kill you.” You warned.

He looked up at the head table and saw Jeff and Connie just enamored with each other. Not really paying attention to anything or anyone else but each other for that matter.

He put a hand on the back of your chair and scooted closer. “ I don't think they care.”

He watched you as you glanced at your friends and smiled.

“ Awww I love them.”

He reached up and moved your hair behind your shoulder. Causing you to look at him. “ Want to get out of here?”

You jerked your head back. “ Dude! It's our best friend's wedding.”

-

As the night progressed you guys were practically inseparable. You danced, drank, and talked. It was as if nothing had changed between you two. He made you laugh and you made him nervous. 

It felt right.

Even the approving nods he got from his friends and family assured him this was it. He could do this with you. 

Your parents were about ready to leave a couple hours later and you along with them. What could he do to get you to stay?

“ I-I can get you a ride home later if you want.” He offered.

You shook your head. “ No, I have some work to do so I better get going.”

He frowned. “ But we hardly got to hang out.”

You looked down, clearly to him, trying to think of something. When he came up with something first.

“ I uhh I should probably try and find a hotel for tonight.”

You met his eyes with yours. “ Why?”

He nudged his head towards the door. Where there were paparazzi hanging out with cameras at the ready. “ I was gonna stay with my uncle, but I don't want those guys to bother him.”

“O-oh… ummm well you know my parents still have the pull out in the basement. I could...if you want, I could sneak you out? But what about everyone else?”

He shrugged. To hell with them for the night. “ They're adults, they can figure out something I'm sure.”

You softly laughed. “ Alright. How about you go out the service entrance and we’ll circle around for you?”

He smirked. “ Let's go.”

-

He was laying there in his boxers trying to figure out how to sneak past your parents room and get into your bedroom. Sure it was probably a stupid idea to try and have sex while your parents were across the hall. However he needed you. He craved your lips, and your warmth. He wanted your body next to his.

So he decided to grab something to drink, then see if your parents had gone to bed.

What he found was even better. 

You were in the kitchen grabbing a Popsicle. Wearing nothing but a long shirt and tube socks.

When you turned around you jumped. “ Eddie!” You half whispered. 

He grinned. “ Sorry baby. Was thirsty.”

He went for a glass to pour himself some tap water. Paying attention to your movements. You had gone to sit at the table and started sucking on the ice cream. All the while reading a manuscript. 

He gulped down his drink and went to sit next to you. Pulling the chair as close to you as possible. 

You did your best to ignore him and his advances. But the way he played with your hair made you shift closer to him. 

You had gotten so overcome by his light touch on your thigh that you squeezed your legs shut. You then flipped the page you were working on and licked the Popsicle that was melting all over your hand. Some of the sweet syrup dripped down your chin. And before you could wipe it away he grabbed your hand with one arm and lightly held your chin between his index finger and thumb with the other. He then licked a fat strip from the underside of your chin up to your bottom lip.

He smirked to himself hearing your breath hitch. He had you right where he wanted. 

He stood up and grabbed your hand. Stealing your sweet treat and finishing it off before leading you down to the basement. Of course locking the door behind you. 

When he got you on the bed, he finally took that kiss he'd been dying for all day and everyday for the past seven years

Wet and needy. Tongues dancing together. Exploring tenaciously. With hands doing the same.

He started needing your breast and was surprised by something hard. Curious, he went under the shirt and felt two small metal balls on either side of your hardened nipple. 

He groaned against your lips. “ Fuck baby. I like this.”

You laughed softly and whispered. “ I knew you would.”

He grinned while he played with your piercing. After a bit he kissed his way down your body until he reached your underwear. But instead of taking them off. He moved the damp cloth to the side and spread you a part. 

He was addicted as soon as his tongue touched you. The sweet, sweet nectar that poured from you drove him mindless. But even more so feeling your hand get lost in his curls as the other covered your mouth. Trying to conceal your pleasure.

He stared up at you, enjoying your contorted face as he sucked and licked and swallowed like there was no tomorrow. 

Then he added fingers. Doing a come hither motion. Wasn't long after that. Your body trembled as an orgasm hit. Your pussy throbbed around his fingers. Coating them generously with your wetness.

He waited patiently for you to come down before climbing back up your body and crashing his lips into yours. And when he did you sucked in his bottom lip. Causing him to push his hardened length against your soaked undergarments.

You pushed him up off of you and got on your knees before him. He watched in awe as you wrapped your hair up and freed his cock from its cotton prison.

You teased him at first. Giving his head little kitten licks and kisses. It was maddening. Feeling your slick tongue swirl around the tip before retreating back into your mouth. 

“ Baby please!” He begged.

You looked up with darkened eyes and a less than angelic smile. “ Shhh. You have to be quiet.”

He pouted. Pleading you with his eyes. 

Then you did it. You took the whole damn thing. Making him reach for the back of your head and lifting his hips to go deeper. 

The hum in your throat had his eyes rolling back and toes curled until they hurt. 

A few seconds passed by and he felt your throat close around him as you started to choke. He loosened his grip and let you back off. 

He opened his eyes and focused on you. Watching you catch your breath before taking him in again. This time not so deep. Adding your hand into the mix. 

It was fucking amazing. Every slurp, every gag, every teasing lick around his balls nearly had him cumming. Even more so when you forced him in every once every other stroke. Building up his confidence and his orgasm.

“ Sh-shit baby…got-gotta stop.” 

You let him go with a small pop and had a concerned look in your eyes.“ Everything okay?”

He licked his lips and swallowed. “ Yeah. Fuckin perfect. Just don't wanna cum yet.”

He leaned forward and pulled you into a kiss while helping you up. 

You stood before him and used his shoulders for balance as he peeled off your panties. 

Once they were at your feet you kicked them off and straddled him. Slowly lowering yourself on his shaft. 

Your mouth fell open and your eyes screwed shut and his tip pushed through. 

“ OH MY GOD!” He moaned. 

Your warm tight pussy clinged to him. Hugging him like no other has before. Feeling you flutter around him as you rocked back and forth had him focusing on not cumming. 

He buried his face in your bosom and concentrated on his target. That one special spot that made you cry out his name. That spot that not only drove you over the edge but made him see heaven.

Sure enough he found it. But at this angle he couldn't touch it as much and he wanted to. 

So he wrapped his arms around you and held on tightly as he flipped you over on your back. 

You giggled in the process and stole a kiss and he repositioned himself. When he looked at you, you were grinning up at him.

“ Oh Eddie. So serious.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and rammed himself in. Earning that yelp/ moan. He reached up to cover your mouth as he plowed into you.

“ This. Is. Serious.” He grunted. 

Your eyes got lost in the back of your head as he thrusted hard and steady. Your moans turning into whimpers and sighs as he fucks you into the bed.

And within moments your body and his reacted to the immense pleasure. 

The climax washed over you like a wave of ecstasy.

Once it passes, he rested his forehead on yours panting with you. Letting his hand fall away from your mouth. 

“ I've missed you so much.” He whispered.

You nodded in agreement that he was also missed. 

He kissed your forehead. “ I'll go find something to clean you up.”

He then pulled out slowly and put on his bottoms.

When he came back he had a warm washcloth with him. He gently cleaned between your legs then himself before pulling you to lay in his arms.

You had started tracing his tattoos. Making him smile.

That's when he found himself writing something on your arm.

‘Marry-me-yeah?’

You sighed lightly and snuggled closer to him. Tracing your answer on his chest.

‘Okay’

He raised his head to look at you. " Yeah?"

You nodded. " On one condition...You have to break the news to Grant."

Eddie threw his head back into the pillow and smacked his forehead. " Shit! He's gonna kill me."

You giggled. " Yup."

…

@salenorona23 @browneyes528 @ohmeg @eddiesguitarskills @trashywormeateroffics @eddie-is-a-god @crookedcrone

[ughgoaway]

i hate matty healy- chapter 5

content warnings: 18+ (mdni), smut, blowjobs, swearing, drinking, questionable decisions and probably other things I'm forgetting <3 word count - 4600-ish

a/n: hi again!! sorry this is kinda long it got away from me, if it's too long and you prefer shorter chapters pls let me know! anyway, this chapter was fun to write but rereading it I lowkey hate it but if I try to go through and edit it again I will kill someone so I'm leaving it be <3 I'm currently obsessed with matty + the red guitar and that's all my brain can think of!! thats all byeee

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Old pictures and posters cover the ceiling staring back at you. An old blur poster, next to an oasis one because you could never choose. Pictures of your sixth form prom, you arm in arm with George after you got cancelled on by your original date and he stepped up to take you. And of course, the very first poster of the 1975 to be printed. Technically it was the first poster of Drive like I do but one day Matty came over announcing they had changed the band name. Again. And crossed out drive like I do and scribbled “the 1975” over the top.

If you didn't know better you'd think that poster was the only one up there, it seemed to grow each time you stared up. Every time you lay down on your childhood bed you are met with a picture of him. The dickhead you're trying to convince yourself you really do think is a dickhead. But here you are again. At 3 am staring up at his face. The moonlight filtering through your window was highlighting the poster almost mockingly. God even the moon was working against you.

You growl in frustration and go onto your phone in an effort to distract your racing mind only to be met with another photo of Matty and the boys. Fucking Matty. It felt like he was stalking you. Which would be impressive considering you and him hadn't spoken in 2 weeks, not since that night on the tour bus.

As you expected the guys hugged and made up the next morning, consoling each other like 15-year-old girls. But the same couldn't be said for you and Matty. You hadn't spoken at the last show, in the airport or even on the plane home despite being sat together. It was a very frosty 14 hours. But if he was going to be stubborn, you would be stubborn right back. You hadn't let him win before and you certainly wouldn't now.

Only a few miles away Matty was in a very similar situation to you, staring at the ceiling willing his brain to stop swirling. As you were all on a brief break from tour Matty thought it would be best to come home to Wilmslow, just to make sure he wouldn't see you in London. Because if he did he's not sure how much longer he could keep up the stubborn act, and he was nothing if not competitive.

He really did feel bad about that night on the bus but he needed you to crack first, he couldn't lose again. Little did Matty know that you had thought the same thing, you were desperately craving the comfort home gave you and the distance from him. In trying to be apart the two of you had only pushed yourself closer.

Fresh air. That would sort you right out, normally you couldn't take a walk at 3 am but that was in London. Wilmslow was nothing like London, the most dramatic thing to happen in months is Ken and Linda's divorce so you didn't feel like you were at much risk for being brutally murdered. Unbeknownst to you, across town Matty was having the exact same thought. Well, almost the same thought, he can't say Ken or Linda crossed his mind.

Cold air filled your lungs and your mind flashed back to the night at the club. The weird eye contact, the awkward cigarette and the strange silent agreement all shot to the front of your mind. Shaking your head you try and tell yourself to just stop thinking. With no place in mind you just began moving, the thought of standing still for 5 more seconds seemed impossible to you. Before you knew it your feet were taking you in the direction of the skate park, a place you frequented a lot when you were younger.

Desperately tagging along with your older brother to start with but as you got older it was your brother and his mates, who soon became your mates. Well some of them did. The one glaring exception to that was also on his way to the very same skate park, old skateboard in hand.

Matty had slithered out of his mum's house as quietly as he could, trying not to wake her or Louis up, knowing he would never hear the end of it. Before he left he grabbed his board from the cupboard under the stairs, he briefly thanked whatever God there may be that his mum hadn't binned it on any of her cleaning rampages.

With each step you felt your mind freeing, being home always put you at peace; apart from your mum sometimes but you would never tell her that. Eventually, you see the skate park start to come into view, you'd tried to stop at the corner shop to get some alcohol before remembering that you weren't in London, and the corner shop closed about 7 hours ago.

The smell of freshly cut grass filled your senses the further into the park you went, it comforted you as you trudged your way across the large football field that separates the main park from the skatepark. After many complaints from parents about “hooligan teenagers” the skate park was moved slightly further away from the play equipment.

For a second, you could've sworn you saw a shadow on one of the ramps, but you wrote it off as an animal or something. No one else would be out at this time. You are pretty sure the whole town of Wilsmlow was asleep from 9 pm to 7 am every day. 

You reached the top of the smallest ramp and sat down swinging your legs over the ledge and for 5 whole minutes, you hadn't thought of Matty once until you heard an unmistakable voice ring out from below you. 

“You’re kidding me right now.” You froze, briefly thinking it was your imagination but nope, you looked down the ramp and met with the eyes of the very man you were desperately trying to avoid thinking about. 

You had no witty reply, no quick retort because at that moment you couldn't think of anything worse than seeing him. Especially when he looked like that. His normally perfectly manicured curls were fizzy and unkempt. He was wearing an old pair of tartan pyjama trousers, a ripped oversized harley davidson t-shirt and a fluffy cardigan that if you were to guess, was his mum's. Dark circles surrounded his eyes which looked slightly sunken, and in his left hand was the same board you coveted from all those years ago.

Maybe it wasn't the rockstar performer Matty that most people knew, but this was your favourite Matty. The Matty only a few people saw, the slight sleep-deprived domestic Matty always had a soft spot in your heart. Not that he knew that, you're not even sure you knew that until you saw him in that moment.

Silently he jumped up next to you and sat down, both of you chose to ignore the way your shoulders brushed and the way spark it created. After a few beats you got the courage to speak up, “is that the skateboard you taught me to skate on?” you asked, remembering the long few weeks of learning to skate. It was a summer of many bruised knees and drunk nights in the park; to this day it was one of your fondest memories of home.

Matty jumped slightly at your voice, not expecting you to be the first to talk, “Yeah, mum never threw it out I guess. Do you remember how shit you were?” He giggled out the last sentence, his shoulders shaking your own. You eventually started to laugh with him, if you were honest with yourself you really were shit. Ross had taken to skating so quickly you thought it would be the same for you but it wasn't.

“Yeah, I do. Remember that I was such a shit student that all the boys fobbed me off to you? They knew you wouldn't go easy on me like they did.” This caused a loud laugh to bubble out from both of you which soon turned into sleep-deprived cackling that had you holding your stomachs and gasping for breath.

Eventually, you got your breath back and lay down staring up at the sky, Matty soon followed suit and the silence resumed. But this silence was slightly more relaxed, still not pleasant but it was better. 

“Hey, you want to go back to mine? I have a bottle of wine stashed under my bed from my 19th that I'm desperate to drink right now.” Matty whispered, despite no one being around it still felt like it was right to whisper. He expected a hard and fast no from you but instead, you were quiet. A little too quiet, Matty turned his head to look at you and was shocked to find you already facing him. 

He stared into your eyes and admired the way your eyelashes fluttered against your cheek. You did the same to him, loving the way the moon reflected in his deep brown irises.

Just as quietly as he asked you responded with a simple, “Yes, let's go.” Soon enough you were walking side by side down the streets of the small town you both grew up in. This time, the silence was comfortable. Unusual, but comfortable. 

The keys rattled in the door of Matty's door as he opened it, slowly he poked his head around and thankfully no one was awake. He ushered you in and you followed him slowly up his stairs, a sense of familiarity washed over you as you looked around. His house hadn't changed from when you were young. The same Beatles artwork lined the hallway and the stairs were still covered in a deep purple carpet that Denise always insisted she would replace “next year.”

Matty's room was also the same you thought as you walked in, you hadn't spent much time in here but over the years you'd picked up Ross from band practice or sat with the boys getting high. It was still very similar to your own, every surface was covered in posters. Various bands littered the walls along with posters of his favourite movies, pulp fiction and true romance took pride of place above his bed.

Of course, it was still matty so there was also a rather large “Legalise it” poster above the keyboard in the corner. His bed was decorated with black sheets covered in small white stars. The headboard had fairy lights wrapped around it, you had made fun of Matty when he first put them up but he insisted they were “fucking vibey.” And to be fair to him, when you were stoned they really were.

You sat down on the bed and Matty got on his knees to begin looking for the wine stashed under the bed. Already slightly drunk just on the presence of Matty you joked, “Now there's a sight I like, Matty Healy on his knees” An unimpressed look fell over Matty's face as you began to giggle at your own immature joke.

“Such dirty jokes darling! And in my childhood room nonetheless” Matty jokingly retorted after coming back up victoriously, a bottle of wine in hand. The springs squeaked when he sat down next to you, he unscrewed the wine and took a quick sip before handing it over to you.

The maroon liquid slid down your throat and immediately calmed your racing thoughts, you knew it couldn't work that quickly but in that moment you didn't care for logic. “As if this room hasn't seen a lot worse over the years Healy, I've heard the horror stories!” you smirked as you handed Matty back the bottle. Passing it back and forth between you, both taking short sips and enjoying the pretty cheap wine.

“Horror stories! Sweetheart I’m wounded” Matty joked holding a hand to his heart and acting as if you had stabbed him. His childlike actions solicited a small laugh out of you, soon a hush fell over you both as you looked into each other's eyes and wordlessly kept swigging the wine.

Matty's eyes flicked down to your lips so briefly that if you blinked you would've missed it. But you didn't miss it. And he didn't want you to. Your breath shifted as he started to move ever so slightly closer, as if he was testing the water.

You didn't have the patience to test the water and crashed your lips into his, pulling his face into yours. He quickly reciprocated and pulled you into his lap gripping your ass as you ground down into him, only the thin fabric of both your pyjamas kept you separated. 

You felt matty hardening beneath you and a plan formed in your head, with a smirk you broke the kiss. Matty desperately chased your lips but you pushed him away and began slithering down his body, before long you were on your knees in front of him. “You know I never did apologise for the other night” you drawled out, sliding your hand up his clothed thighs, rising up slightly on your knees.

“Oh- yeah- I meant to apologise for that-” Matty began to ramble, with the way you were looking up at him- how could he not? He was starting to stutter when you interrupted him with a hand on his chest.

“Matty im the one apologising remember? What did you say again? Oh yeah, ‘next time you come crawling back to me you'll have to beg on your knees.’ well here I am, on my knees.” You began to press small slow kisses up his neck, licking and sucking when you reached the edge of his jaw. 

Matty swiftly realised you wanted this, and you wanted him. He slipped right back into the new version of him you had begun to love. “Well baby, I did say beg and I haven't heard that yet” he tried to keep his voice steady as you hit a particularly sensitive spot behind his ear.

Sitting back on your knees slightly you make eye contact with Matty and breathe out, “Please let me suck you off Matty. Please. I promise it will make you feel so much better.” you punctuated the end of your sentence with a particularly dirty kiss that pushed Matty right to the edge. 

“Shit- yeah go ahead baby” Matty sighed out and soon enough you were making your way back down his neck and torso.

You pressed your face into the warm skin of Matty’s stomach, pushing hot kisses down his body until you reach his waistband. You let a shaky breath out as you pull down his trousers and free Matty's achingly hard cock. He let out a strained moan as he looked down at you, seeing you on your knees looking up at him with doe eyes and fluttering your eyelashes is going to be the death of him; he was sure of it. 

“I've been thinking about doing this for a long time” You muttered, letting your lips and tongue delicately brush against Matty's tip. He growled in response and griped your hair harshly, desperately trying to avoid just fucking your mouth.

“C'mon sweetheart stop teasing or I’ll- shit-” Matty's complaint was cut short by you taking him in your mouth all the way down and swallowing around him. His fingernails scratched your scalp as he grabbed and pulled your hair.

Your nose brushed the dark curly hairs and the base of his dick as you held it in your mouth, focusing on the deep buzz of desire making its way through you. Matty jerked his hips forward at the feeling causing you to gag but at that moment you didn't notice, the only thought in your head being making him feel good. Your hand press his thighs against the bed, revelling in the noises coming from Matty, each new grunt and groan fuelled your ego.

You began moving up and down on his cock, taking what you didn't have in your mouth in your hand and jerking it. Slowly you gain confidence and start moving quicker, twisting your hand at the base and going up and down his shaft. Tracing the large vein on the underside with your tongue each time you move up and down. You came fully off and began making out with his tip, giving the underside kitten licks and groaning at the taste.

The low groan that resonated out of you caused Matty to jerk forward once again, you took it as an invitation and dropped your hands from his thighs and looked up at him. You keen into his hand hoping he would understand your silent plea. Your blood-red nails trailed down Matty’s legs leaving scratches in their wake. Matty thrusts again in your throat, loving the feeling of you marking him; the pleasure mixing with the pain.

Tears are streaming out of your eyes and spit bubbles at the corners of your mouth but you couldn't care less at this moment because Matty was looking at you with such hunger it causes wetness to pool in your underwear. Looking up at him you begin to beg with your eyes, desperate to have him claim you.

Matty delicately swipes the mascara-coloured tears from your cheeks and asks the question he's been so desperate to since you dropped to your knees “You want me to fuck your mouth huh baby? fuck you up a little?” you nod as fervently as you can with his cock resting in your mouth, causing Matty to spit out a string of curses.

“Yes fuck- I always thought of doing this to you in here shit-” Matty sighs out as he begins experimentally thrusting into your throat. You were too lost in the haze to hear his comment and began to gag slightly as his cock hits the back of your throat. A low moan from you encouraged Matty to go faster and soon enough he was fucking your throat wildly, ignoring any gags from you only being spurred on by the moans leaving your filled throat. 

Each time Matty's hard cock hits the back of your throat you have to hold back a whimper. His cock fit perfectly in your mouth and you loved feeling him. Matty had received many blowjobs in his 29 years of life but he would swear on anything that it has never felt this fucking good. Each time you tightened your throat around him caused his mind to reel and made his grip on your hair even more viscous as he puppeted your head up and down his shaft.

You swallow around Matty as he stares at your mouth stretched out around his cock, marvelling at your closed eyes; you were obviously enjoying this just as much as he was.

You couldn't get enough of the feeling of his heavy dick in your mouth. You flicked your eyes open to stare at the man in front of you, taking delight in the way sweat drips from his brow as he works himself in and out of your mouth.

“Such a good girl for me yeah? Knew you'd be back on your knees just not like this fuck.” Matt's head lulled back and he closes his eyes a low groan coming from deep within his chest. “I’m gonna cum sweetheart shit- look at me yeah? Look in my eyes when I cum down your throat.” As soon as your eyes meet, Matty is cumming hot and thick down your throat.

After a few seconds Matty pulls out and tucks his dick back into his boxers, as he looks back at you he sees you swaying slightly on your knees obviously fucked out, cum dribbling out of the corners of your mouth. Matty grips your chin and pulls your face up to meet his, “open your mouth.” 

As you do he's met with a sight that made him weak, your tongue was heavy with his cum. A primal growl comes from Matty as he leans down and spits in your mouth, snapping your mouth shut with his hand on your jaw. 

“Swallow,” he demands. A squeak of shock leaves your mouth only to be followed quickly by a moan as you swallow down the mixture of cum and spit. You try to grind down on something absentmindedly, desperately trying to alleviate some of the pressure building in your stomach. 

Matty notices your feeble attempt at feeling some relief and pulls you up onto the bed, holding your neck possessively as he says, “Oh baby did you get all worked up by me fucking your mouth?” You groan and give Matty a nod, desperate for him to help with the wetness between your thighs.

“I would help darling but this was an apology remember? You needed to say sorry to me, and you have. But you won't be getting anything in return. You should be thankful I let you suck me off.” he paused briefly a filthy smirk coming across his face. “So say thank you, baby”

Your voice was raw and scratchy from Matty's rough treatment as you breathed out a meek, “Thank you Matty” he smiled appreciatively at your obedience and cruelly patted your cheek. 

“Let's go to sleep now baby, come lay down with me,” Matty said as he lay down on his bed, patting the empty space next to him. You joined Matty and the two of you begin to lazily make out until the post-orgasm haze got the better of you both and you fell asleep on Matty's chest, rising and falling with each of his breaths.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains and illuminated the small space you were asleep in, dots and streaks moved through the room as the trees swayed and allowed sunlight to peak through and dance on the ceiling. Matty stared at your sleeping figure and thought about how peaceful you looked. He's only ever seen you so at peace once in his life before, the day he finally saw your apartment for the first time.

Unlike the other guys, Matty had never been inside your apartment let alone slept over but the others were always there.As far as Matty knew your apartment could be a secret drug den but all he's ever seen is the 3-meter-squared entryway. Until the day he finally got a peek when he picked Ross up on the way to the studio.

Ross had forgotten something inside so ran to grab it and accidentally left the door open, Matty immediately stuck his head in and began looking around; he ignored the fact that he was so eager to see how you lived.

Plants were everywhere, even trailing down the walls, which was strange to him; he never thought of you as a plant person. Large colourful sofas filled the living room as well as bookcases overflowing with old novels and nicknacks. They were dark oak, Matty assumed they were another charity shop find and admired the small rose engraving that trailed up the side of them.

Framed photos of you and the boys were on almost every surface, the sight warmed his heart a small bit. Despite spending 24/7 with them you still wanted them around in some way or another. Soon enough Matty realised that quiet music was filtering through the apartment and he felt himself being drawn toward it.

He began to follow the music that he now recognised as Otis Redding’s love man record; one of his favourites. The sight he was met with made his mouth go dry. You were standing in your pyjamas, softly swaying standing at the oven cooking pancakes. A small smile graced your lips as you mouthed the words, your hair wet from a shower. Matty couldn't help but feel his heart flutter at seeing you in such a domestic setting.

The large windows that were all over your apartment left you standing in a sunbeam, if Matty didn't know better he would think it was a spotlight. The light was filtering around you perfectly, bouncing off your pink silk pyjamas.

Matty didn't like how he felt at that moment. He felt a sense of yearning. To see this again, as much as he could. To be standing with you singing Otis Redding. Obviously, he knew as soon as you saw him this illusion would be shattered, and it was, but he almost began to enjoy the discomfort of standing there, knowing it was caused by you. 

Before long you spotted him, called him a perv for staring and pushed him right back to the entryway but Matty has never forgotten how you looked that morning. How restful it all felt. It reminded him of now as he watched you breathe, your hair sprawled over his pillowcase with a small smile on your lips. God, even when asleep you were beautiful. 

Wait. No. Not beautiful, just tranquil. Silent. Before he could spiral much longer you woke up from your sleep and smiled at him, observing how the sun behind him illuminated his frazzled curls and almost looked like a halo around him.

“Hi,” you said simply, not quite awake but aware someone needed to say something otherwise you're sure you'd be sitting in silence for the next hour. “Hi,” he said back the exact same way, with an airy quality surrounding the word.

The pressure was building between the two of you to have a real conversation about this, whatever it was. Because at this point it had to be something. But you weren't ready for that conversation and neither was he, all you both wanted to do was live in this moment. With the sun heating the room you were in, the light hit all the right places around you. So you did what any sane person would do at that moment, proposition him.

“Wanna have sex?” you bluntly said, raising your eyebrows suggestively. A Cheshire cat-like smile broke out on Matty's face as he leaned in and began kissing you. This kiss began slow, his lips moved slowly and carefully over yours, he moved his hand from the bed up to your cheek and pulled you in harder.

The kiss began to heat up as you grabbed Matty's bottom lip between your lip and pulled on it. In response Matty growled and pulled away, he laid down and grabbed your hips, pulling you onto him just like last night. 

You pulled away and sat up to admire the man under you, he had taken his shirt off at some point in the night leaving his chest bare, his pale skin was stark against the black sheets. You traced each one of his tattoos with your pointer finger admiring how his muscles tensed with your featherlight touch. His lips were red and puffy from the rough kisses, his cheeks were pink and he was flushed all over, giving his whole body a small glow.

Matty whined impatiently and pulled at the hem of your shirt prompting you to take it off. You quickly followed his request and stripped off the baggy shirt revealing your bare chest, your nipples pebbled at the cold air. Matty groaned appreciatively and sat up to begin assaulting your chest with kisses and leaving small hickeys in his wake, delicately scraping his teeth against your breasts. He marvelled at the breathy moans you let out as he continued his movement.

The door of the small room creaked open but both you and Matty were too preoccupied to notice, soon a voice broke the silence.

You screamed and pulled the blanket up to cover your bare chest. All three of you stood there and stared, chests heaving in shock and eyes wide. How the hell were you going to explain this? Fuck.

[lewiscarrolatemybrain]

Me, vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass: I wanted a Koby-and-Luffy-Childhood-Friends AU and that turned into a Koby-grows-up-with-the-ASL-brothers AU and THAT turned into me imagining Koby still becoming a marine (Garp is THRILLED TO TEARS. Ace and Luffy give him a lot of grief for it but they're still lowkey proud of him) and one day, completely by chance, he stumbles across the Chief Of Staff Of The Revolutionary Army.

Wanted posters for the Revolutionary Army aren't passed around like the posters for pirates and criminals are, because it's actually very common for a would-be bounty hunter to get recruited to the cause if they seek them out, and the government doesn't want that, so only ranked officers are allowed to actually have them. And Koby, who recently made rank, did find himself staring for a very long time at the slightly blurry black-and-white picture of Sabo(?), Rank Unknown -- but a picture doesn't do a face justice, and he's been carrying that ghost with him for years, so he ultimately set it aside. Told himself not to wish for impossible things.

Only to, less than a week later, end up helping Sabo (Sabo, it's Sabo, holy shit it's Sabo) escape from a marine base. Koby will go to the gallows for this if he gets caught, but both of his other sworn brothers are pirates. He became a marine knowing that if he had to make the choice, he would chose family over duty. Granted, he didn't expect to have to make that choice for at least another few years, but here we are.

The two don't speak much -- there isn't time. Koby gives hushed orders and Sabo whispers clarifying questions and they breathe warnings back and forth, both of them stretching their observation Haki as far as it will go as they tiptoe out of the base.

This boy feels familiar. Sabo can't explain it, but he felt it the second he laid eyes on this young captain. The pink hair, the big eyes. It's worse now that they're standing right next to each other, Haki signatures pressed so close together it's impossible to ignore. This boy feels like feathers and steel, like something soft and warm and earnest wrapped around a core that is solid and steady and unfaltering. He is the waves that erode the shore, patient and gentle but inevitable in their quest for change. Sabo shouldn't be able to read the soul of a stranger this clearly, but he can, somehow. It feels good next to his own roiling storm clouds and piercing cliffs, it feels grounding, but he can't help the strange thought that there should be fire and forest here, somehow. There should be sunlight.

The boy feels familiar, and Sabo hates that he is the one following behind. Which is stupid, because he doesn't know where they're going and obviously the one who does should take the lead, but every corner they turn and patrol they dodge has the spaces between his shoulderblades winding tighter. He wants the captain tucked safely behind him, with Sabo in the lead where he can take the brunt of whatever danger they face. This, too, is strange.

They make it out of the base and down to the docs, where Koby gets Sabo set up -- the guards change shift in thirteen minutes, if Sabo waits there'll be an opening for him to steal a boat and get out of here -- and Sabo takes the opportunity to ask "Are you... sympathetic to the cause?"

The boy stills.

"You aren't on our books, is all. I don't recognize you as an officer. If this is you looking to join, I'm afraid I don't have time to vet you right now, but I can arrange for you to meet with a recruiter--"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" It comes out a hoarse, furious whisper. Koby wants to scream.

Sabo blinks. "I'm sorry?"

"Is that how you justified it? Oh, it's been so long, they probably forgot about me? Is that what you told yourself?" He needs to keep quiet, he needs to get back inside before he's noticed missing, they can't do this right now -- "Or maybe you just figured out of sight out of mind, right? Since clearly that worked out fine for you!"

Koby waves a hand up and down Sabo, a gesture meant to encompass -- this! All of this. His fading grin and his fancy coat and his fucking wanted poster.

"Chief of Staff. That's impressive. I'm not surprised you're some big shot, it suits you. Are you having fun, Sabo? Is your grand adventure treating you well?"

"I don't know what --" but Koby can't let him talk, because Koby can't breathe, because Sabo is here and he's alive and he's acting like Koby is a stranger to him and if Koby doesn't spit out the words he's suddenly choking on then he's going to collapse into screaming sobs instead and they can't afford that right now.

"Let me guess, secret identities? Code names? It's all so hush-hush, so cloak-and-dagger, you were sworn to secrecy? I don't care. I don't fucking care what reasons you used to justify letting us think you were dead! For ten years! It was selfish, Sabo. It was cruel. And I--" He gasps. Coughs. Sucks in a heavy breath until the salt of the sea breeze settles in his lungs and he can tell himself the wetness on his face is ocean spray. "We mourned you. Ace and Luffy are still mourning you. Dadan and the bandits and Makino and Gramps. Everyone, all of us -- we have all been carrying this grief and you just--!"

Breathe in. Breathe out. Stay quiet. "If this is the life you want, then okay. Okay. But don't you stand there and pretend I'm a stranger to you, and expect me to play along. Don't you do that to me. Not to me."

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 하이에나/Hyena.

Okay, I'm assuming I just convinced a lot of you by that poster alone. But just in case, here's a trailer along the same lines!

Hyena is a 2020 Korean drama about two lawyers who get into a relationship under false pretenses, end the relationship, and then still have to deal with one another in their professional lives, while also uncovering massive corruption in the halls of jurisprudence.

This is absolutely one of those shows where, if this is the kind of thing you like, this is a strong example of that kind of thing. You know the beats it's going to hit and the turns it's going to twist, so you're just here to watch the rest unfold. It's not really a courtroom drama; while there are court scenes, they're few and far-between. Most of it is about their lives outside of court: preparing for cases, negotiating power dynamics, and working for some shady-ass rich people alongside a cast of delightful supporting characters.

It's no great work of art, but it's a lot of fun, and it's surprisingly more complicated than it appears at first blush. It's also not a huge commitment, as shows go -- just your standard Korean block of sixteen hour-long episodes -- so here's a shortish set of five reasons I think you should give this a trial (get it? trial?) run.

1. Just fuck that pretty boy up

This show knows that women want one thing, and one thing only: Ju Jihoon in mild to moderate distress.

I love this tall drink of water in everything I've seen him in (just wait until the day I finish my rec for Kingdom!), and this is no exception. I imagine that the entire pitch for this show was, what if we put Ju Jihoon in sharp, well-tailored suits and have him menaced by a bunch of beautiful professional women 10-25 years older than he is? And the Netflix executives, in a startling moment of common sense, greenlit the heck out of that.

His character, Yoon Heejae, is a hotshot lawyer from a family of hotshot lawyers and judges who works for a hotshot law firm. He embodies that certain kind of cocky, toxic masculinity that makes you idly fantasize about getting his tie caught in the shredder so it strangles him. Over the course of the show, you get to see him taken down a peg time and again until he learns to be submissive to the right people, instead of to the wrong ones. And he's much, much happier that way! So yeah, if you enjoy seeing a beautiful man get that smug smile metaphorically and literally slapped right off his handsome mug, Hyena has you covered.

I had to replay the champagne scene like ten times, fuck. No, I'm not going to tell you what I mean by that. Watch the show!

2. The titular Hyena

The major disappointment I had with this show is that it did not bring up the one -- one! -- thing everybody knows about hyenas, which is that a lot of people think the females have penises. Because oh boy, Jung Geumja has the biggest dick in the show by a mile.

A lot of times when people say a female character is a disaster, they mean, tee hee, she spilled her coffee and accidentally said something she shouldn't have! Bitch, Jung Geumja said that shit on purpose.

She's an attorney who's willing to adopt some hella unethical tactics for her clients. She's got her goals, but good luck getting her to reveal what they are -- and good luck to her when it comes to achieving them, considering that she's a complete nobody who went to law school much later in life than all the other high-powered attorneys in the show did. That's okay, though! What she lacks in experience, she makes up for in balls-to-the-wall fearlessness.

I love how intentionally bad her aesthetic is. They give her awkward outfits and the worst possible haircut, to say nothing of her hideous cell phone necklace/lanyard/thing. She adopts a more professional demeanor partway through, but the second you let her off the respectability leash, the track suits and big clunky sneakers are back. The couple times she goes real femme, she looks like she's in bad drag. It's ugly-delicious.

Her actor, Kim Hyesoo, is a beautiful woman who looks very good in evening gowns and low-cut blouses. This show intentionally steers her hard in the other direction. It's a kind of protective coloration, Jung Geumja's way of telling all the other predators not to fuck with her, or she will fuck right back.

She's scrappy as hell, despite not actually being a physical fighter -- in fact, she gets the shit beat out of her a couple times. You don't get a whole lot of media where the female lead gets her face kicked in good and proper, or if you do, it's painted as a tragic, vulnerable moment. Jung Geumja slaps on a bandaid and gets right back out to the club the following night.

Her superpower is basically that she has no shame. You think ambulance-chasers are bad? She takes it to the next level.

You really don't see a lot of female characters like this! Sure, you get the Boss Bitch archetype in a lot of legal dramas, but she's always composed and dignified. Jung Geumja has no dignity. She's a sloppy bitch who makes pretty much no effort to leverage her feminine wiles in her day-to-day life (even though the show makes a point that there are men who'd be receptive to it if she did!). She's a nasty top who clearly loves to horrify dignified, presentable people with her yakuza lounge aesthetic.

You could maybe accuse Jung Geumja of being a Mary Sue, but she's, like, a middle-aged woman's Mary Sue. If your teen girl fantasies are all about how you're the most beautiful girl at prom and all the boys like you and you become independently wealthy at your dream job as an interior designer, then your middle-aged fantasies have become how you can look super-hot wearing whatever the fuck you want and still get respected by your colleagues for your extreme competency in your profession and also have handsome men with good jobs beating down your door no matter how much your hair looks like you scalped Paul McCartney c. 1964.

She's absolutely one of those characters where I'd hate her if I had to deal with her myself, but because she's fictional and can't hurt me, I support all her wrongs.

3. Everybody else!

As is the case with good legal dramas, the main lawyers are not the only lawyers! Instead, Hyena has a wonderful cast of supporting characters who become part of the legal eagle team.

They’re exactly the kind of charismatic background weirdos I’ve come to expect from Korean dramas. You’ve got the whole batch: the potential love rival, the secondary romance couple, the supportive nonthreatening bestie, the workplace misfits who are both extemely competent and completely underappreciated at their jobs, and the childhood-friend-turned-cop I couldn't find good promo pictures of for reasons prrrrrobably related to the actor's DUI arrest.

No matter how enjoyable a main romance is (and it is! see point 5!), it cannot sustain a whole sixteen-hour drama on its own. You need to mix it up and give your primary pair other party members to bounce off of! Hyena pulls together a good group of characters that are wacky enough to be entertaining, but (mostly) not so wacky you have to suspend your disbelief about how they got to where they are in life.

And they’ve also all got some interesting relationships to masculinity and/or femininity, which is pretty par for the course with how the show clearly enjoys…

4. Getting gender all up in your business

While it's not an overt, in-your-face theme, the status of women in Korean society is definitely at play in this story. The realm of law, politics, and buisness as depicted here is absolutely a man's world, where few women are allowed, and only in a very limited number of roles. Of course there are always wives/girlfriends and secretaries doing all the helper grunt work, but a token handful of ladies can be allowed into actual ranks of power ... sort of. They'll always be second best to their male peers and relatives, of course, but doesn't that gender diversity look nice in the company's annual report!

As mentioned earlier, Yoon Heejae starts out as a good ol' boy from a long line of good ol' boys, dick-measuring with the rest of them and shooting straight for the top. It's only when he's blindsided by soft power that he starts to re-evaluate what he's gotten himself into. Maybe being a good son is actually a racket! Maybe these squads of tie-wearing ass-kissers aren't actually that fun to be around at all! Maybe he's actually much better-suited to playing on the girls' team.

Meanwhile, Jung Geumja's "ruffian from the wrong side of the tracks" role is such a man's role, but she's definitely a woman inhabiting it. Hell, half the stuff she gets away with, she does because everyone's just so shocked to encounter a woman doing and saying these things. So she does weaponize gender expectations - just not in the way you might expect a woman in a romance-centered drama to.

In the aforementioned support squad, the male attorneys are all gender failures in one way or another, which is why they haven't advanced in their jobs the way their colleagues have. They cannot perform hard-drinking, ethics-ignoring, 90-hour-workweek masculinity to the standards of the high-powered suits who run their law firm. It's only Jung Geumja who, given the choice to assemble her own crew, can see that they have immense value beyond the very gendered expectations of their profession.

Meanwhile, Boon Hyunah, the only female attorney on their team, is great at both representing and subverting that Exceptional Woman femininity. I was cautious at first, because she was clearly introduced in a way that made her seem like she was going to wind up being the evil popular girl/rival bitch whose entire job was to prove by contrast that Jung Geumja is Not Like The Other Girls. Not so! They actually wind up good friends and trusted colleagues. Female solidarity is so much more fun than contrived romcom catfighting!

Maybe my favorite character in the whole show, though, is the littlest gender-nonconforming angel, professional soft butch Lee Jieun: Jung Geumja's eternally beleaguered secretary, sidekick, gofer, co-conspirator, caretaker, and only friend.

She's clearly taken her haircut notes from Jung Geumja, but instead of going the track suit route, she's dedicated herself to the tweed lifestyle. And I love that nobody ever tries to give her a makeover or make her feel bad for not being femme! She makes friends with the other, much girlier secretaries, who seem to welcome her into their group with no problems. She finishes the show as frumpy as she was when she started.

I was prepped for the drama to give her a male love interest to defuse her obvious lesbian vibes, but it does not! She does not even, to my recollection, express desire about anyone. She oohs and ahhs over flowers and other gestures of romantic interest that happen to other people, but not in a particularly jealous way. She ships Yoon Heejae and Jung Geumja, and that's what matters to her.

The entire reason I found this show in the first place is that it has a "sismance" tag on MyDramaList, presumably for the relationship between Jung Geumja and Lee Jieun. Their relationship is wonderful, but it's way more sis than 'mance. They're more like two sisters with a huge age gap, where the dweeby younger sister has dedicated herself to doing anything her cool older sister wants her to do, and the cool older sister has decided that having a minion is worth putting up with having to wrangle a dweeby younger sister.

This show is also very female-gazey. Not only does it gleefully ogle Yoon Heejae's long-legged frame pretty much every chance it gets, but it makes Jung Geumja gross-hot in a way that only a lesbian could love. And that makes the fact that she has not one but two handsome men fighting over her even better! This is a world where our gorgeous male lead has a choice between a conventionally attractive, professionally dressed, charming, dignified woman in her early twenties, and a fifty-year-old human tornado with a foul mouth and a bad haircut, and he goes straight for that cougar without even blinking. He wants her to step on him so hard.

And speaking of:

5. Law, Partners

This is a romance worth being into.

Sure, they're both real hot (at least, by my bisexual lesbian standards), but we all know by now that being hot separately doesn't always guarantee being hot together. Fortunately for this show, they very much are.

What makes this pairing so interesting is that this is a relationship between equals. They start out with huge power mismatches both ways, since he's socially her superior, while she's lying to him real hard. When they're finally at a point where they're on even footing, it's so good, especially since she's clearly on a trajectory to emerge as the senior partner in this relationship. They’re such a great team, in fact, that the kissy part of their dynamic becomes secondary by the end. Yeah, sure, they like one another -- but more importantly, they can finish one another’s closing arguments. When you're a middle-aged Mary Sue, that right there is some good fucking romance.

If you read my other rec posts, you know I'm very picky about my het. This is good het. Maybe not great het, but still very good. Solid 8/10. Their chemistry is strong. I can absolutely imagine her strap-on collection. He's like a foot taller, but we still know who's going down.

Into it?

Netflix made this one, so Netflix is where you're going to find it. This does mean, annoyingly, that a lot of the onscreen text doesn't get translated, and none of the English lines get captioned, both of which are incredibly bad practices. Come on, Netflix, you've got eleventy bajillion dollars, you can do better.

...Also, am I wrong about people knowing that other people think female hyenas have penises? Is this knowledge what I deserve for spending too much time studying the ancient world? Dammit.

Kick his ass, baby; I'll hold your track suit.

[cakerybakery]

I’ve been searching for music for another project but I heard this song again and instantly thought of this scene

- title: Top Shelf Confessions

A lounge wasn’t somewhere Adam would normally go but it was Husker’s turn to plan the group outing. And while he was out on the casino floor gambling away the nonexistent shirt off his back, with Angel Dust on his arm for good luck, there wasn’t much else to do in this place that interested Adam.

It wasn’t like the group stuck together either. As soon as they passed a poster for the big show for that night Charlie had lit up, grabbed Vaggie and insisted they had to watch the casino’s big giant floor show. “They have dancers! And musical numbers! And it’s got acrobats! And we have to gooooo! Please Vaggie?”

‘Of course Vaggie would agree.’ Adam thought some rather vulgar thoughts about the two and why exactly Vag-gie would agree to whatever the little princess wanted.

On occasion he caught sight of the little maid. She was having the time of her life, scuttling after the little bugs that thrived in the debauchery and darkness of the corners of this center of sin.

Adam lost track of Alastor the second they walked through the door and couldn’t tell if he was skulking around in the corners with the other creepy crawlies or just left them all here.

The only one he couldn’t shake was the only one he really wanted to. Lucifer sat in the half circle booth with him. VIP section, so it wasn’t all bad. Adam just wasn’t use to being the entourage instead of the VIP.

Adam was still on his first drink. It was virgin, which Adam had bristled at and nearly started shit with Lucifer over, except the waitress had confirmed their order and Adam’s drink as being without alcohol. So Adam opted to pretend he’d known that the whole time.

Lucifer slipped the waitress a large bill and told him, "for the service," with a smile.

Ten thousand years apart and there wasn’t much to talk about. What was Adam supposed to do? Pretend he gave a shit about Charlie’s baby photos? Ask how marital bliss with his ex-wife was? Were Lilith’s tits as fine to grope as they had looked in Eden? How’s work as the king of hell?

Lucifer was halfway into a bottle into something he called top shelf shit before either of them actually spoke.

“You ever miss Eve?”

Adam didn’t want to talk about Eve and told Lucifer as much.

“I miss Lilith.” Lucifer stared out at the stage. He spoke like Adam wasn’t actually there. “Sometimes I’ll be fine, then I’ll see something that reminds me of her and I’ll spiral. The only thing that helped was the ducks.”

“Why the fuck are you telling me this?”

“You’re probably the only person I know who can relate.”

Adam pulled the bottle away as Lucifer reached to pour himself another glass. “I want you to be sober enough to hear me and understand. I don’t give a shit. I didn’t ask Lilith why she wanted to be in heaven. I agreed to get her in, because I hate you more than I hate her.”

Lucifer laughed, it was deep and throaty, “alright.” He propped his head in his hands and leaned as the next singer took the stage. “It’s just funny that you don’t know. Lilith is gay.”

The liquid in Adam’s throat caught and he choked, sputtering at the ease of the confession. Lucifer didn’t sound bitter or like this was some secret confession. Rather, he sounded like it was simply common knowledge.

He just smiled his drunk little smile. “We had the same goals and shared an interest in the same type of hole. If you catch my meaning. Well, I'm more flexible on that point.”

“Why did you get married?” Adam didn’t mean to get involved in Lucifer’s drama but he was mildly curious why Lucifer would marry and miss a woman he knew didn’t, wouldn’t, love him.

“Show. She only had her voice. Not the claws or teeth, nothing to protect her from the other sinners. She was a good friend. I loved her as such. The sex was good, even if our preferences differed. And when they differed we simple found other lovers.” Lucifer swished his now empty glass in Adam direction. “Come on barkeep, ain’t the story worth another glass?”

Adam rolled his eyes and pushed the bottle back over. Lucifer drunk little smile turned predatory, he slid closer and pushed the bottle back.

“Un uh. You wanna take it from me, you get to keep it. Now pour me another drink, sweetheart. Daddy’s thirsty.”

Raising an eyebrow and the bottle, Adam poured a drink for the man pouring is heart out. “You always get like this when you’re drunk? Shouldn’t you be slurring and shit?”

"Ever hear the term, high functioning alcoholic?"

"No?"

"Oh, well, never mind then. My joke won't make sense." He paused a beat, "I'm not, you know. If you look up what that is. I burn off most of the alcohol as I drink it by the nature of my domain. Most of it never reaches my brain. I could burn off all of it, if I wanted to. Be stone cold sober no matter how much I drink, but it's fun to be a little tipsy. And it lowers the guard of those around you when they think you drink like a fish."

In the low lights of the lounge Adam hasn't noticed how close Lucifer had gotten. The candle on their table flickered with hellfire, red and low. Lucifer's eyes shined, reflecting the light of the candle. Adam hadn't noticed how softly Lucifer had been looking at him. As though nothing else matter but him.

A new song started up, the melody low and sultry. The singer on stage opened her mouth but all Adam heard was Lucifer's voice, low and quiet, singing just for him.

"I know I stand in line until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me And if we go someplace to dance, I know that there's a chance you won't be leaving with me"

Lucifer's hand brushed his as the instrumental break played.

"Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you""

Lucifer's thigh pressed against his.

"I can see it in your eyes, that you despise the same old lies you heard the night before"

"Adam," Lucifer took advantage of the break in the lyrics to whisper his name. "And though it's just a line to you, for me it's true, and never seemed so right before"

Leaning in until their breathe mingled, Adam could only see those shining eyes.

"I practice every day to find some clever lines to say to make the meaning come true But then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late, and I'm alone with you"

A hand took his and Adam's quickening heart skipped.

"The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you", I do."

Lucifer moved closer and Adam let Lucifer's lips met his. Adam closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss. It felt too brief and he leaned in to follow as Lucifer pulled away. "I love you" Lucifer held the final note as the song ended.

A bottle of champagne they never ordered was left in a bucket of ice at some point as Adam and Lucifer had been so focused on each other.

A thought came to Adam's mind and he had to know, "did you plan to seduce me from the beginning?"

"Since Eden, at least." Lucifer's half closed eyes looking up at him matched his soft half smile. His fingers clasped together under his chin. "I love you." it was as though once Lucifer said it once, the floodgates opened and he couldn't stop himself.

Lucifer's wedding band glinted in the light of the candle. His eyes followed Adam's gaze. With a simple twist he pulled the ring off and dropped it on the table.

"I'm a single man, Adam. How about you?"

Adam's voice was hard to find. He didn't like talking about it, "Till death do us part. And she parted a long time ago."

"Did you ever forgive me? For the things I did?"

"No," he croaked out as Lucifer once more leaned in.

"Then, perhaps, if you'll allow me," Lucifer voice was husky in his ear, "I can begin to make up for all the wrong against you I've committed."

Adam felt the tip of a tail press against his knee, sliding up to his thigh.

He should run. His spine tingled as Lucifer slid a hand into Adam's hair.

It was wrong. The lips on his felt so right.

"You have a lot to make up for."

"I have a lot of time to make it up to you."

Adam didn't notice that the lounge was now empty. The house and stage lights were out, and in the dark was a sea of flickering candles. The song Lucifer sung for him played over speakers. It wasn't the same, but it started up again.

When was the last time anyone had put this much effort and time into trying to win Adam's heart before? Never.

He'd seduced women before, but never had he been seduced. Adam found he liked it. It felt good to be chased. To be the one someone puts effort into loving.

"I love you." Lucifer sang along before meeting Adam in a kiss again.

"You're growing on me." He wasn't in love, there was a lot of history between them. But, he was willing to let Lucifer try to change his heart.

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