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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years ago

Text

playing with fire (part 1)

word count: 23k

fluff, smut (warning: age gap, infidelity, roommate’s father)

(series masterlist)

“is there any other way you could pay?” the woman behind the desk asked, stout and soft spoken with sympathy in her eyes.

she probably has to have this conversation with students a lot, tell them that their tuition payment didn’t go through or that they’re not eligible for government support.

or that the athletics department needed more scholarship money, successfully rendering you, one of the many photography majors on campus, unable to pay for your last semester of college.

“a loan of some sort or another scholarship, maybe?” she tried to help, “i could send over an e-mail of ones you might be eligible for.”

you swallow the lump forming in your throat, attempting to calm all the anxiety and stress violently making its way through your body.

“y-yes, that would be great, thank you,” you barely manage to get out, hoping and praying to some unknown force above that you don’t burst into tears.

you were nearing the end of the fall semester, the last fall semester you ever anticipated of having, when you found out just last week that you were no longer eligible for your scholarship.

in a short, curt e-mail explaining that, while you kept up your gpa and never strayed from the requirements, they’ve maxed out their amount of funding and are looking to use that money elsewhere.

“can they do that!?” your best friend and roommate of four years yelps, gucci sunglasses atop her head as she stomps around your shared, off-campus apartment.

“they can’t seriously do that! you’ve been a straight a student since you started and now they wanna take it away?! before your last semester of senior year?!”

“eunbi, it’s not ideal but i’ve already come to terms with it,” you explain gently, leaving out the part where you did, in fact, have a break down right outside the bursar office only an hour ago. “i’ll just save up money and come back in the fall to finish.”

“that’s so not right or fair though!” she whines, something about the concept of not getting what she wants unfamiliar to your roommate.

you first met park eunbi during freshmen move in day, your two raggedy luggages and beat up backpacks an embarrassing contrast to the multiple louis vuitton travel bags she lunged in.

you were intimidated for all of three seconds, before she looked at you with a smile and threw her arms around you like a long lost best friend.

it was obvious she came from money, the way she spoke and carried herself so confidently before her parents came in and introduced themselves.

they were both gorgeous and tall and looked far too young to have an 18-year-old daughter, covered in fancy jewelry and expensive looking clothing.

her dad, who introduced himself as mr. park seonghwa, didn’t seem to bat an eye at your more humble appearance. he reminded you a lot of eunbi, honest and genuine in the way he was kind and nonjudgemental.

mrs. park seemed nice enough, too, though you could see the judgement behind her pretty eyes.

the way she sneered at your bags and looked down at your hands, so different from her and her daughter’s not covered in diamond bracelets or acrylic nails.

“did we just miss your parents?” she asked, her voice just as pretty and rich sounding as she appeared; you bet if she laughed, she’d had have that melodic, care-free laugh all rich women seem to have.

“oh, uh, yeah, i’m sorry,” you apologized, lying through your teeth with a shy smile and averting gaze - you had to move in by yourself, the same way you traveled here all alone with no one to send you off.

“it’s okay, we just thought it’d be nice to meet them,” eunbi’s father interjects, the smile on his handsome face causing your stomach to swoop - how is he a dad?

“we were gonna take eunbi to an early dinner before we left. do you wanna join us?”

“oh no, it’s okay, i’d hate to intru-”

“no, you’re coming, c’mon!” your new roommate whined, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the door. “we’ll be able to get a lot of dessert out of them. probably the whole menu if we wanted.”

and you saw that over the years, eunbi knew she could, in fact, get whatever she wanted from her parents. they had the money and the means and the fondness in their hearts for their only daughter.

but it never seemed to get to your friend.

she was always kind and thoughtful of others and never said or did anything to suggest she was just a brainless, spoiled rich kid.

even in your guy’s second year when she found out you were going to school on an academic scholarship, she didn’t care. she didn’t turn her nose up or think you were lesser than her for not having the funds; if anything, it only made her praise you more.

that you were smart and ambitious enough to work under the strict guidelines of a prestigious scholarship.

“i know it’s not fair,” you mumble, not wanting to cry or have another anxiety attack over this matter. ��but it is what it is. i’ll figure it out.”

she lets out a dejected, defeated sigh so uncharacteristic of the girl, plopping down on her pink, fluffy bed and bringing you down with her.

“we’ll sell feet pics over winter break,” she concludes after a few minutes of silence, wrapping her arm around yours and curling her body into yours. “you know how much money we can get from that? and we have pretty feet,” she says, sticking her leg up and wiggling her red, painted toes.

there’s a little less tightness in your chest and a little heaviness lifted in your stomach as you let out a giggle, looking over at your best friend who truly got you through the last four years of school.

you really don’t know how you’d still be functioning if it weren’t for her.

“you’re sick.”

“i’m serious,” she giggles out, flipping on her side and causing the bed to bounce under you. “you’re still good with coming tomorrow, right? i told my parents you were.”

she had invited you to her house for the winter break this year, the girl not wanting you to spend a month alone in the apartment.

you’ve shared with her how strained your relationship with your parents has been, really, since birth. never seeing eye to eye to them and feeling as if they never had your best interests at heart.

when most kids get full ride scholarships, their parents are immensely proud. bragging about how smart they are and telling them how proud they were.

but your parents were the opposite.

they didn’t want you to up and leave them to pursue an education. they thought you were gonna stay with them forever, not go to college like them and help run the family business back home in your tiny little hometown.

it was your dream to go to college and get a degree, though, so that’s exactly what you did for yourself; but they saw it as a giant fuck you.

saw it as you thinking you were better than them and basically told you to never come back if you thought you were so much smarter and better off without them.

so you’d spent every winter or summer vacation in the dorms, this year finally being the time you accepted eunbi’s invitation to stay over - reluctantly.

“i packed all my stuff, yeah,” you mumble, hands twisted into one another nervously. “but... are you sure they’re okay with it? i don’t wanna intrude or be there if i’m not wanted.”

“y/n, please,” she whines, “my mom may be a raging bitch but you know i make the rules in that house.”

“that’s not what i meant,” you mutter immediately, looking to the girl with a small frown on your lips.

although it was no secret eunbi’s mom didn’t ever seem too fond of you, always sneering at your off-brand items or questioning the logistics of why exactly you needed a scholarship to afford college, you always tried to remain polite.

smile at her and greet her happily even though there was always a thick, palpable tension between you two.

“oh but it is,” she chuckles out, the girl far too aware of what a materialistic snob her mother is. “it’s fine, i know she’s a bitch. my dad’s just coming tomorrow anyway. i told him to bring one of the bigger cars so we can lay out in the back.”

you have to bite back a snarky comment about the fact there are multiple cars in question, though the look in your eye certainly gives it away. she can only giggle and shrug her shoulders, flopping onto her back as she tells you about how excited she is to be reunited with her boyfriend.

eunbi and jiwoon have been dating since their second year of high school, going to colleges only an hour away from each other; he was just as handsome as he was kind and good to her, leaving you with no other option but to love and support the both of them.

and you try to listen to her rambling that ensues, you really do, but your mind is swirling with some slight anxiety about staying with her family for a month.

you don’t wanna make her mom even more irritated, deal with the side eyes and passive aggressive comments and overall feeling of just not being wanted.

you don’t want eunbi to feel obligated to be with you 24/7, act as a cock block to her and her boyfriend who haven’t seen each other in almost six weeks.

and maybe, you don’t want your tiny, small, miniscule crush on mr. park to make you feel any more awkward than it does, wondering how a married man who has a daughter in college is still so handsome and alluring.

it also doesn’t help that he’s just so incredibly kind, always making everyone feel so comfortable and welcomed, it’d be hard not to just develop a little, secret crush on him.

“eunbi, who is that sexy ass man who just dropped you off?” one of your suite mates asks your roommate, everyone gathering back in front of the dorm building after winter break.

it was sophomore year and you spent a month in the quiet, almost eerie college dorms alone (apart from the ra down the hall). you were grateful for everyone to return, no matter how loud or catty things were about to become.

“yeah, for real. is that your new boyfriend? he’s hotter than the last one and i didn’t even think that was possible.”

“uhhh.. no,” eunbi says, shooting the crowd of girls with lustful eyes and curious glances a look of distaste. “that’s my dad.”

and that’s when a chorus of disbelief and inappropriate comments erupted from the group of college girls.

asking how a dad could look like that while hoping and praying he’s single.

inquiring about just how much her dad’s on campus and when’s the next time he’s gonna pick her up.

about how he’s definitely hotter than her boyfriend, with a more mature and sophisticated look than these college boys.

“are they fucking serious! like how disgusting? he’s my literal father!” eunbi rages once in the dorm room, sharing a few curse words and vulgar phrases at the girl’s before stomping away from them.

“and for them to say that shit in front of me? did they think i want to hear that?”

“i know, that was so sick,” you agree, because even though you, too, think he’s attractive, it’s not something you would ever verbalize to your friend.

“like... i know he’s younger than most dads, my parents had me when they were teenagers, but shit! how sick,” she rants, throwing down her heavy designer bags and flopping on her bed.

you can tell by the look on her face how much it truly bothers her, everyone always noticing her dad and making comments like that. she handles it well, she’s always able to handle herself well, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s something that worries her.

people getting close to her to get to her dad, even if it was teachers or other moms in elementary school or her friends when she got to college.

it’s one of the many reasons you would never give away your little crush on him - because it’s not only inappropriate and uncomfortable for her to know but there’s also no need to tell her.

because it’s not like it would go anywhere.

he’s a married man and your roommate’s father, a twisted, dark, forbidden fantasy that will stay in the walls of your head and never see the light of day - no matter how thrilling and fulfilling being with him would be.

“eunbi, your dad’s gonna be here soon,” you yell into your roommate’s doorway, met with the sound of her groaned “five more minutes!” that you’ve been hearing for the past twenty.

she was on facetime with jiwoon when you went to bed around one, briefly waking to the sound of her girlish screams or high-pitched giggles three hours later; you wouldn’t be surprised if she only went to bed a few hours ago.

“you said five more minutes thirty minutes ago,” you say, stomping your way over before smacking her over the head with a pillow. she lets out a loud sigh before swatting you away, your surprisingly fast reflexes grabbing her wrist.

she peeks one eye open as a smirk covers her morning face, looking from you all dressed up and ready in your pink pleated skirt and white thigh high stockings, down to her wrist in your hold.

“that was kinda hot. and you look good. i don’t know how to act right now.”

“shut up and get your ass out of bed,” you demand, biting back a smile as you storm out of her room.

you’d been pacing around the apartment ever since you woke up at seven a.m., more and more unsettled about staying over her house as the time drew closer.

you checked to make sure you had enough clothes and chargers and skincare products for nearly an hour, finally settling the same purple suitcase you moved in with freshmen year near the door.

you hope mrs. park doesn’t notice, remembering the way she sneered at the wonky zipper and slightly stained bottom.

you also hope you can keep yourself in check, not get too nervous or flustered by eunbi’s exorbitant wealth or a new setting you don’t feel welcomed in or her hot ass father whose bones you wanna jump.

the knock at the door completely sobers you, jumping in your spot just in time to see eunbi fly across the living room to get to the door. there’s a big, happy smile on her face, ripping open the door and greeting her father in typical eunbi fashion.

“are those for me?” she asks, snatching the red box from his hands.

excitement bubbles inside the girl as she unveils twelve chocolate covered strawberries, a speciality at one of the local dessert shops just a few miles from her home.

“you shouldn’t have, dad, really. i’m much too tired to appreciate this.”

the man can only look at his daughter with a look of disdain and affection, waking up to an extremely passive aggressive text that she’d really appreciate an early morning treat from her favorite place ever and that it’d really inspire her to be ready.

but as he can currently see, given the state of her hair and pajamas pants, it didn’t at all act as a motivator.

“then maybe i should just-” but upon her father’s hand reaching out to grab the box of strawberries, the girl brings it to her body and runs away, yelling that her bags are packed and she’s just gonna wash her face.

he looks to you with a mock annoyed expression, your heart jumping in your chest as you send him a small, polite smile.

“how do you deal with her, y/n?” he asks, a smirk on his face rising as you let out a soft, slightly forced giggle - this man looks too good for his own good at ten o’clock in the morning.

“don’t talk shit about me!” she yelps before you can even think to say something, a smile lighting up his face again before he nods his head down the hall.

“i’ll bring down your girl’s bags,” he says, his tall, large frame coming toward you making your knees feel slightly wobbly.

you swear you see his eyes roam over you for the shortest of seconds, down to your shirt and exposed legs before back to your face, until he’s looking into your eyes questioningly.

totally not like someone who just checked out their daughter’s roommate - this is what you feared, your own delusionals and attraction making your crazy little brain see something that’s not there.

“her bedroom’s down that hall?”

you resist the urge to swallow nervously, begging yourself to snap out of it and remind yourself you have to deal with the man for a month. a month of his dark, piercing eyes and bright, white smile and skin so smooth and clear, it’s far too easy to forget he’s almost forty years old.

“yeah,” you barely manage to get out. “i-i can help and bring down mine.”

“no, it’s okay,” he insists, “help in getting eunbi ready. you know she’ll delay us thirty more minutes.”

you let out another strained chuckle as you nod your head, finally letting out the breath you’ve been holding when you hear his footsteps disappear down the hall and into her room.

as long as you distance yourself from him, not look him in the eye or let any sort of idea get in your head that an older, married man could want you back, this will be fine.

it’ll be a nice, calm, relaxed break actually full of interaction and socialization opposed to your usual lonely bubble of solitude.

eunbi’s not making that very easy though, when twenty minutes later, she’s opening the back door of her father’s black g-wagen and sprawling out on the black leather seats.

“where’s y/n supposed to go, eunbi?” seonghwa asked, the fatherly tone is his voice causing eunbi to let out a huff; the only time you see eunbi’s spoiled tendencies come out is around her father, the girl knowing he’ll do anything and everything for her.

and apparently, so will you.

sitting in the front seat of her car, next to her extremely hot father you’re trying to stay calm around, while she sleeps soundly in the backseat - if she didn’t invite to stay at her home, meals and bed and transportation free, you’d say she has to owe you.

“was she up all night talking to jiwoon?” mr. park asked, the past few moments of silence just as comforting as they were terrifying. it felt awkward to you, extremely tense and full of suspense, but you knew it was completely normal.

you bite down on your lip, looking back at eunbi sleeping soundly on the seat, even prepared with a fuzzy white blanket. you let out a soft giggle when you see her mouth open, the slightest bit of drool hanging from her mouth and threatening to spill on the dark leather.

“she might’ve been,” you mutter, a breathy laugh leaving her father that causes you to sneak a glance at him.

there’s not a hint of a wrinkle or imperfection on his glowing skin, black hair hanging in his face and red lips quirked into a content smile. that’s something you always noticed about him, despite his dark appearance and looming figure, he always appears to be happy.

smiles and laughs and never gives anyone without his same wealth a dirty glance - he treats everyone the same and that’s another reason you’ve taking a liking to him, not just because he’s the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

“y/n?” he asks, your intrusive thoughts being ripped away at the sound of his voice calling your name.

your eyes move to his and he’s watching you in slight amusement, a rampant blush creeping up on your cheeks at the way you’ve been caught. you’re quick to look away, shake your head and let out an awkward chuckle and apology.

you miss the way his eyes roam your side profile, a delightful smirk and feeling in his chest blooming before he speaks again.

“how was your semester?”

“it was good,” you say, hands placed nervously in your lap. “a lot of work on top of an internship but it was good.”

“and you girls are almost done,” he hums lowly, one hand atop the steering wheel while his eyes focus on the highway in front of him. “eunbi’s been talking about a combined graduation party since the moment you guys met.”

you let out a small laugh as you remember eunbi’s plan since your second semester of freshmen year, ignoring the twinge of sadness in your stomach.

you could’ve never anticipated delaying your college career when you first received your scholarship, happy and proud and eternally grateful for the opportunity.

but you suppose you’re lucky enough to have gotten this far, and delaying one last semester is nothing compared to people who never get to go to college - but it still makes you feel upset.

you think you have the right to feel disappointed and sad, the lingering sick feeling in your stomach making you feel nauseous.

“is it okay if i open the window for a second?” you mumble to mr. park, the man looking over your face.

he presses down on the passenger window button immediately, your face met with cold air as relief floods through your body.

“are you okay? do you get car sick?” he asks, remembering how much eunbi used to get car sick (on the rare occasion she wasn’t passed out during a road trip).

“not usually,” you mumble, resting your head on the side of the door.

then again, i’m not usually freaking out about making tuition money or repressing my violent attraction to my roommate’s father.

seonghwa watches as you close your eyes for a few moment, allowing the cold, windy air to hit your face. he couldn’t help but notice the pinkish tint to your cheeks, suppressing the urge for his eyes and thoughts to wander.

you’re a college girl in the prime of her life and his daughter’s best friend, he’d be a fool to think you were blushing and nervous because of him - but he also doesn’t remember you looking like.... this.

so pretty and dressed up and pink in the face as you check him out with a soft and curious look in your eye.

“maybe try to take a nap,” he suggests, his gaze lingering back onto the road so he doesn’t look at your exposed legs. “i’ll pull off at a rest stop to get you ginger ale.”

“that’s not necessary, mr. park,” your sweet voice says, something about it causing his insides to jump - he definitely doesn’t remember you sounding like that. “i’ll be okay. just need the window open for a little longer.”

you spend the next few minutes with the cold, december wind blowing through the car, your back pressed against the comfortable seat behind you. a chill runs through your body, goosebumps rising on your exposed thighs, but it feels better than the alternative.

potentially panicking or vomiting due to current stress of your life.

your gaze shifts to the man beside you, whether it be to check him out or ask if he’s cold unknown to you.

“are you okay with the-”

the words are stuck in your throat when you see his eyes aren’t on the road but your exposed, goose-bumpy thighs, the white lace of your thigh high stockings and pink skirt leaving little to the imagination.

you wish you could see the look in his eye, if it’s judgemental and shameful or full of lust and curiosity. if he’s wondering what you have on just a few inches under your skirt and if that’s something he even thinks about.

or maybe he’s just looking because it’s there - your skirt blowing in the wind and him caught off guard by the sight right there in his passenger seat.

“um, i think i’m good now,” you mumble, watching from your peripheral as he shifts in his seat and tightens his hold on the steering wheel.

“alright, let me know if you wanna stop.”

you bite down on your lip as you nod your head, keeping your eyes on the view in front of you.

the faint sounds of eunbi snoring behind you act as a way to ground you, remind you that these thoughts and feelings you’re having can’t stay.

maybe you have to get it our of your system now, take all the looks you can and feel all the hopefulness your delusional brain needs until you act as if eunbi’s father is a mean, disgusting, grotesque man.

not someone who gets your heart and body pounding.

you’re not sure how many songs play on the radio until you both are talking again, seonghwa looking in the rearview mirror to see his daughter still passed out on the seats.

“do you think she’ll sleep the whole time?”

he hope for his sake, she doesn’t.

you look back at eunbi sleeping soundly, the drool previously trickling down her mouth successfully making a pool on the black leather.

“probably,” you chuckle out lightly. “i have a feeling she went to bed around six.”

“shit,” he laughs out, remembering the days he used to be able to pull all nighters in college or dreaded the idea of waking up in the morning. “i can’t remember the last time i was able to stay up past one.”

“you’re not even that old, mr. park,” you tease, not sure where you got the balls to say that and feeling, at least for a few seconds, that you overstepped; but then he lets out a deep, amused chuckle and it causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“not that old, huh?” he quips, your tooth sinking into your lip at the tone of his voice. “you know i’m turning 40 in a few months, right?”

you crane your neck to look at the man in the driver’s seat, swallowing thickly when you see his eyes are already on you. there’s a certain type of lightness and teasing in them that you’ve never seen before, the man always happy and jovial but never like this.

never looking so... teasing and playful.

“yeah,” you say with a growing smirk, not being able to help your own nervous excitement. “that doesn’t seem too bad.”

the deep, low chuckle that leaves him causes your stomach to swoop, eyes wide and the small smile on your face causing him to look over you once more.

it’s shameless and bold but neither of you seem to care in that moment.

“i’ll keep that in mind,” he says, deep brown eyes piercing through yours before his face turns teasing and.. appropriate.. “the next time eunbi tries to call me an old man or something.”

“right,” you chuckle out, cheeks burning and heart pounding as you allow yourself to break eye contact.

the ride to eunbi’s house is just over two hours, hoping and praying that it goes by quickly - because you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to be alone, or mostly alone, with him.

you’re thinking too much into his words and his gaze and the way he makes you feel, making you silly enough to believe that, maybe, a part of him wants you too.

the second you arrived at eunbi’s, you had already felt unwelcomed.

not only because of mrs. park, who just about sneered at your presence in her exquisite home, but because of the dozens of other socialites in the immaculately white living room.

it looked and felt almost like a hospital. a white color scheme with black accents, extremely cold and spotless - the only bit of color was in eunbi’s room where it felt like you could actually breathe.

“i’m sorry, i told her not to throw her fucking gathering today,” eunbi complained, grumpy from her nap but still happy to finally be home.

“a bunch of stuck up snobs, i swear to god. they either have to get the stick lodged so far up their asshole removed or get dicked down by their lousy excuses of-”

“eunbi,” you hear her father’s deep voice reprimand, the girl not even feeling the slightest bit of shame or embarrassment for talking that way in front of her father.

“oh, c’mon, dad, you know it’s true!” she whines in a whispered tone. “they’re the worst! and she knew me and y/n were coming today, do you really think that wasn’t a coincidence?”

because, as far as eunbi thinks, she has sinking suspicions that her mom did this solely to make you uncomfortable.

she had already been hesitant to let you stay in the first place, had eunbi not gone full on bitch mode and stubbornly proclaimed she’d spend the break with you at the apartment.

but you didn’t have to know that.

“i don’t care, it’ll just be my first christmas without my family, mom, who cares about that,” she had said, all types of manipulative and toxic behavior that she learned from the best.

she’s sure her mother was sweet and good at one point in her life, she wouldn’t have ended up with her father in the first place if she wasn’t, but money changes people.

wealth and greed and having the power to get anything you want because you flash a stack of money around or write out a check.

“i told her to have them out by dinner,” he said, his eyes moving from eunbi to you, standing there with tense shoulders and a shy, uncomfortable look on your face.

“you’re more than welcomed here, y/n,” he said, his voice low and full of kindness as he stands in eunbi’s doorway. “don’t worry about it, okay?”

you resist the urge to pout at the touched feeling in your chest, looking from the man to eunbi who’s nodding at her dad’s words.

“thank you, mr. park,” you say, a phrase he swears has never effected him this deeply.

and because of that, he’s quick to haul ass out of there. tells you guys that dinner will be ready around seven and to come down whenever.

you and eunbi spend that time in her room to unpack both of your things and watch movies, her king sized bed nearly lulling you to sleep until her loud squeal and bounce of the bed causes you to jump in shock.

“y/n, don’t be mad at me please,” she whines directly in your face, all wide-eyed and cutesy as she looks at you with mock innocence.

“what did you do?” you mumble tiredly, pushing her away with the smallest of sneers.

“i’ll be back for dinner, i promise, but... is it okay if i go to jiwoon’s for a little?” she asks, cocking her head to the side before shimming closer to you. “i have to get railed so bad.”

“jesus christ, eunbi,” you snort, pushing her away again and burying your face in the pillow - you’ve never met someone who overshares as much as she does.

she plops down on her back with an unabashed giggle, popping right back up like an annoying little dog and looking at you with a smile.

“of course you can go, i’m not gonna hold you hostage here,” you say when she pulls your face away, looking at you so expectantly and sweetly, you couldn’t say no if you wanted.

“okay, but i don’t want you thinking that i’m gonna ditch you this whole time. i’m really not, y/n,” she pouts, knowing that was one of the reasons you were apprehensive about coming - that and her bitch of a mother. “i just miss him.”

a pout falls on your face as you look at eunbi and the genuine look on her face.

“bi, i’m serious, go. i want you to,” you insist, moving a piece of her tangled hair away from her face. “we were just gonna be up here anyway. i’ll probably take a nap, i was about to fall asleep before your loud ass-”

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says, pulling you into a tight hug before jumping off her bed and rushing toward her door. “i’ll be back a lot more calm and happy. oh, why, you ask? because i’m about to get my back blown the fuck ou-”

you thank god for your impeccable aim, promptly whacking eunbi in the face with one of her pillows.

“get out of here,” you groan, eunbi throwing the pillow back with a smile on her face.

“sweet dreams, y/n!”

you let out a sigh when she closes her door, falling back onto her bed with a soft plop.

you were definitely tired from your anxious pacing this morning but aren’t sure how much sleep you’re gonna get right now, tonight or for the rest of the month.

knowing that you’re unwelcomed by one person, extremely attracted to another and silently betraying the person you should be most loyal too - but as long as it just stays in your head, and you remind yourself that there’s no way mr. park could feel anything back to you, it’ll be fine.

you’ll just get by quietly and smoothly at dinners or in passing through the hallways, enjoy eunbi’s comfortable king-sized bed and the fact that you don’t have to spend yet another holiday alone.

reruns of drake and josh play in the background, keeping your giggles quiet as drake soaks his feet in lizard pee. you feel your eyes grow heavy the more episodes you watch, the shitty laugh track and loud, bickering brothers eventually lulling you to sleep.

it takes about five knocks on the door to eventually stir you, your eyes fluttering open to see mr park’s figure in the doorway. you can only stare at the man as you adjust to him, taking in his tall, slim figure just a few feet away from you.

taking in the way his white shirt clings to his body, broad shoulders and slim torso on display in a way that makes you wish you could see, just for a second, what he looks like underneath that a-

“sorry if i woke you,” his deep voice hums, the slightest bit of amusement in his voice that causes your cheeks to warm. “i didn’t think you’d be sleeping at seven p.m.”

“no, it’s okay,” you stammer out, sitting up in eunbi’s bed. “i... i don’t even know when i fell asleep, to be honest.”

he looks at the screen to see drake and josh playing, a smirk pulling at his lips as his gaze shifts back to you.

“it’s funny,” you defend with a mumble, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth that causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach - he’s far too handsome, everything about him is just far too attractive, even in his laugh.

“that’s what eunbi claims,” he says, remembering all the years of his daughter forcing him to watch ridiculous shows.

despite his daughter’s outgoing nature, she never had a lot of friends growing up.

there was once a small group of girls she hung out but they quickly drifted apart throughout high school, leaving eunbi really only with him and her boyfriend.

the boyfriend who seonghwa really didn’t wanna like out of principal but seeing that the kid really does love his daughter quickly coming around.

“speaking of, where is she? jiwoon’s?”

“yeah,” you tell him, settling back into the pillows and stretching your arms out in front of you. “she said she’d be back for dinner.”

“well she’s wrong, as usual, because dinner’s ready,” he quips playfully, the smirk pulling at his lips causing you to smile back at him. you swallow nervously when his eyes roam over your face, your own gaze trained on him before you see his mouth start to move again.

“do you want me to bring some up for you? or you’ll come down?”

he can see the apprehension on your face immediately, fear crossing your eyes and your arms folding into each other uncomfortably. he tries to ignores the way your soft white sweater dips by your chest, a hint of perky cleavage just barely showing that causes his dick to twitch in his pants.

he doesn’t know when this happened.

he didn’t know when he became a pervy old man who checked out college girls with his wife just downstairs and the knowledge that you’re his daughter’s friend.

“i’ll come down,” you say, surprising him just as he was about to insist he brings some up for you. “she’ll probably be back soon anyway.”

but five minutes pass by, then ten, then twenty and eunbi’s still not home - it’s just you, seonghwa and mrs. park at the long, glass dining room table.

white chairs with high backs and comfortable cushions to match the immaculate, hospital-like color scheme and environment; truthfully, you’ve never been more terrified to eat a plate of chicken parmesan in your life.

the sound of utensils scraping on the china and the crackling of the fireplace a room over are the only noises heard throughout the home, mrs. park taking a swig of wine and gently placing it on the table with a light clack.

“so, y/n,” she finally says, breaking the tension with her rich-sounding, nasally voice. “how has school been, dear? you’re an... art major, am i remembering that correctly?”

“uh, photography, yeah,” you smile tensely, trying to ignore the judgment in her voice.

“ah, so you never switched over to business then,” she hums, her wine glass back in hand as her dark, gorgeous eyes look you over.

you bite the inside of your cheek as you feel a pink flush cover your face, faintly remembering your roommate saving you a few semesters ago when her mom was grilling you about picking a more practical and useful major.

“she can do whatever she wants, mom,” eunbi eventually snapped, “whether she does business or photography or even liberal arts is none of your business.”

“no,” you mutter out, dropping your gaze to look over the intricate pattern on the table. “i thought about it but it wasn’t something i wanted.”

“so you didn’t want something practical? or useful?” she asks, using those two words yet again while cocking her head to the side with a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“a business degree would’ve been great, y/n. everyone always has connections to somewhere, you could’ve found a job right out of college.”

you bite back the urge to tell her no. that not everyone has connections to multi billion dollar companies or numbers of ceos in their phones or the ceo of a tech company as their next door neighbors.

but instead, the same way eunbi defended you against her mother, seonghwa does against his wife. gives you a soft, sympathetic side eye before placing his larger hand on his wife’s.

“there are tons of jobs in photography too, honey,” seonghwa says, his voice so warm and soft and welcoming compared to hers even despite the slight edge in it.

“and she can travel to build her portfolio. it’s a fantastic opportunity to explore the world and make money. is there a particular type of photography you’d wanna do?”

you feel yourself relax slightly, a small smile on your face as you nod your head toward the striking couple.

“i would love to be a wedding photographer actually,” you mumble, a romantic at heart who’s read and watched far too many novels and romcoms.

“taking pictures of all those moments would be really fun, i think. like when the groom sees the bride for the first time or just everyone dancing and having fun. weddings are usually happy and i like to photography happy things.”

“that sounds perfect for you then,” seonghwa smiles, his brown eyes lighting up and making you feel even more at ease.

“i think you’ll do great, y/n. and you only have a semester left, right? maybe you and eunbi you could travel for the summer before you start your jobs.”

you ignore the swish of dread and anxiety in your stomach at the mention of next semester, instead choosing to smile softly and nod your head at the man.

“i think she’d love that,” you giggle out, knowing damn well your roommate already has an extensive list of cities she wants to visit before ‘real life begins.’

“and how do your parents feel about everything?” mrs. park asks, making your stomach twist with even more dread and discomfort. “are they proud?”

you wish you could fold in on yourself right now, swallowing the growing, nervous lump in your throat.

because not only is she making you incredibly uncomfortable right now, with her harsh looks and topic of conversation and snide little tone, she just mentioned the people you haven’t spoken to since you left home at eighteen.

you don’t know what to say, you have the slightest bit of concern you might throw up on her, when the loud, chipper voice of your roommate floats through the cold, silent house.

“i’m back!” her chipper voice yelps, sock-clad feet running through the house and sliding on the marble floor. “what’d you guys make?”

“you’re late, eunbi,” seonghwa mumbles warningly, an innocent smile on her face as she picks up her plate of food and plops down next to you.

“am i? or are you girls just early?”

“i’m not a girl.”

“it’s a figure of speech, father,” eunbi says, smiling playfully at her father before turning to you.

she’s able to tell the second she sees your face that you’re uncomfortable, the pink flush still lingering on your face and the tenseness of your shoulders making her frown.

“i’m sorry you were alone with them,” she whispers, genuine sorrow in her wide, mock-innocent eyes. “i got held up. or... down, rather, but i tried to leave on time. i promise.”

“uh huh, i bet,” you mumble back, fighting back a smile despite your discomfort.

because eunbi has always had something about her that made it impossible to stay mad at her, her carefree, unfiltered way of communicating that made being her friend so easy.

even if, sometimes, you wanted to kill her.

“so mom,” eunbi quips, turning her soft gaze to you before looking over her mother.

“what was with your little group of bitchy housewives today? you couldn’t have had them over any other day? what kind of christmas disgrace is that?”

“eunbi...” seonghwa chastises lowly, the girl with her brow already quirked and eyes narrowed.

“i can do whatever i want in my home, eunbi. are you forgetting how things work around here?”

“how could i, when i’m met with thirty middle-aged women with botox out the ass in my home the second i get back from school?” she asks, “you didn’t think me and y/n would wanna spend the break, like, resting?”

“you ran off to your boyfriend’s the second you got here,” mrs. park bites back, her glass of wine empty as she pinches the bridge of her nose. “left your friend all alone in your room. what did i tell you about leaving... guests unattended in the house?”

the accusation and direction of conversation is quickly making you feel uncomfortable, your head turned down in your lap and leaving your cheeks aflame.

she’s making it sound like you would steal something in her home for christ’s sake, like you’re not a guest who’s dreaded coming here due to this very reason.

you block out the back and forth between eunbi and her mom, a few more seconds of yappy feminine voices before a deeply spoken “enough,” echoes through the dining room.

you even look up at the sound, watching as mr. park’s eyes rest on you. his eyes narrow as he takes in the sight of your red cheeks, his gaze shifting from you to his daughter to his wife beside him.

“y/n’s here for a month and we’re gonna make her feel welcomed the entire time. if you two are gonna fight, don’t do it at the dinner table.”

“but dad, she totally-”

“maybe you should’ve taught your daughter-”

“no more,” seonghwa growls, a sense of finality in his tone that causes the room to go silent.

you can tell your friend is unbothered by the reprimanding, shoveling food into her mouth and sipping from her wine glass completely unbothered.

sometimes you wish you could be more like her, so unfazed by conflict or loud voices or the strained relationship with a parent.

eunbi was always open with you about the rocky relationship with her mother, saying more than once to you that if it weren’t for her father, she would’ve long cut off any contact with her.

she had never really been there for eunbi growing up, having nannies and chefs take care of her for most of her life - it was her nanny of fifteen years who taught her how to walk and talk, was there with her for all the milestones she met through infancy, childhood and even adolescence.

but even then, eunbi was nonchalant and carefree about it.

saying that she’s not gonna waste her time being upset over it when she knows her mom doesn’t think about her at all. it makes your heart hurt for eunbi, grateful that the girl at least has a good relationship with her father and boyfriend.

and you, of course. you consider her your best friend and you know she does the same - even if sometimes, you wanna pull her hair out.

“i’m gonna go the food store tomorrow, eunbi, so if you and y/n want anything, just text it to me.”

“oooh can we come!” she squeals, knocking her arm into yours like an excited kid in a candy store. “we wanna try making our cookies again.”

“you’re gonna bake?” the girl’s father asks, a look of doubt on his face that causes you to bite back a smile.

“no, we’re gonna bake,” she corrects with snark, “y/n measures the ingredients and stirs, i put it in the oven and watch.”

“right, silly me,” the man hums, a smirk pulling at his lips the more he sees his daughter get irritated. “but of course you girls can come,” he says, his eyes flicking to you for just a few seconds too long.

you can only look back with a small smile, a quiet “thank you,” leaving your mouth that you’re positive he doesn’t catch.

(he did).

you help clean your plate off before you and eunbi go up to her room later that night, once her door’s closed and she’s sitting down shooting her a look of disdain.

“i know you’re mad, okay, i’m sorry, i really am!” she whines, holding her arms out for you to come over. “i tried to leave but he wouldn’t let me. he just kept wanting to-”

“i don’t need the details you sick freak!” you yelp, going over and plopping down on her bed. “ugh, it was just... so awkward. your mom hates me. she was utterly perturbed that i didn’t switch my major to business.”

“ugh, she’s a crotchety bitch i swear,” eunbi says, falling onto her back and looking at you with sorrow in her eyes. “i’m sorry, i really am. i won’t leave you alone with her again, i promise.”

you quirk an unconvinced eyebrow her way, eyes full of doubt and distrust before she throws herself on you and squeals that, at least, now you can have a scary movie marathon without any interruptions.

it seems you also probably should’ve made her promise last night that you’d never be alone with her father either; it didn’t even occur to you at the time, not thinking that she’d really ditch you two days in a row.

but alas, jiwoon’s car pulled up when all three of you were walking out of the house to the g-wagon for the trip to the food store, her shooting you an apologetic look and whispered condolences in your ear.

“i’m technically not breaking my promise because my dad’s nice,” she mumbled, the feeling in your body more nervous and aroused than it is angry and upset.

but she could’t know that.

“and when i break your head? then what, eunbi?”

“i love you,” she giggles in your ear, the playful tone of your voice letting her know she got off the hook again. “it’ll be fine. my dad’s a good man. he wouldn’t ever talk shit to you the way my mom does.”

little does she know how much you want her dad to talk shit to you.

talk to you in a way that’s casual and playful and teasing, like the hints of it you’ve seen in the car or in eunbi’s room when you were alone last night. you just want him to look at you with the slightest bit of something, even though it’s wrong.

not only because of his wife, no matter how big a bitch she is, but because of-

“do you still wanna come with me?”

seonghwa’s voice pulls you away from your thoughts, looking to the man dressed in a long, black jacket and expensive loafers. he looks far too fancy and delectable for a trip to the grocery store.

eunbi is long gone by now, her giggles and carefree run down the driveway and into her boyfriend’s car leaving you and mr. park alone, with only the blue sky and crisp air as your witness.

him looking you over hopefully, with a twinge of teasing and longing in his gaze.

you looking at him full of nerves and excitement, biting down on your lip as you nod your head timidly.

“s-sure, if that’s okay,” you say, looking from him to his car just a few feet away. “it’d be better than sitting in eunbi’s room again.”

a handsome smile crosses his face as he nods his head, heart pounding and throat constricting as you watch him walk toward the car.

he walks around the front of a smaller, sleek suv, your own eyes watching in confusion until he opens the passenger side door.

you can only stare blankly, head cocked to the side as you really start to wonder if this man is about to make you drive his car costing more than your life.

“are you getting in, y/n?” he asks, an amused smile pulling at his lips - almost like he’s making fun of your nervous, intimidated disposition.

you shake your head of the confusion, cheeks flushing in the cold december air as you do an awkward jog toward the car. you dip in beside him as your body hits the cool leather, craning your neck to shoot him a small, grateful smile.

your faces are closer than you anticipated, breath catching in your throat as his gaze watches you closely.

he doesn’t say a word or move a muscle, taking a few moments for his eyes to roam your face and body before mumbling to buckle up.

you wish you knew how long the drive to the store would be, as it would slightly settle you and the thick, awkward tension in the air. it appears to be enough time for the heat to go on, warm air blowing from the vents before he asks if you want your seat heater on.

“oh, sure, thank you,” you mumble, a smile quirking on his lips as he presses down on the small circular button.

more silence lingers in the air as the trees outside you pass by, the bright winter sun and blue sky not making it feel like christmas is only a few days away.

you can’t remember the last time the holidays have actually felt like it, though, all the lonely days blending into one and feeling as if they were the same.

maybe this year, because you’re surrounded by eunbi and her family, it’ll feel less lonely. maybe you’ll actually enjoy yourself and find that you’ve missed out when you denied her invitation each and every-

“i’m sorry about my wife last night.”

those are words you don’t expect so they shock you even more, looking at the older man beside you with a wide-eyed, confused gaze. his dark eyes are expressionless and casual on the road, one hand on the wheel while the other rests beside him.

“i... what do you mean?” you ask, knowing damn well you understand his apology - and given the unamused look he throws you, he knows you’re full of shit too.

“i don’t think she means to judge you so harshly,” he begins, his deep, smooth voice full of sympathy and softness. “it’s not her place to question your education or major, so i just want to apologize for her.”

“that’s not necessary, mr. park,” you insist, shaking your head as a small, breathy chuckle leaves you. “and it’s not like i haven’t heard it before.”

because no one is ever too confident in any of the arts being your main source of income or profession; even your own parents, although it really wouldn’t matter what you would have chosen, haven’t been supportive.

and you especially haven’t missed the looks of pity or distaste when you tell people on campus or at parties in the frat house, future business leaders or stem majors looking at you like just said the sky is hot pink.

“well that’s just ridiculous,” seonghwa says, ripping you from your thoughts so you can roam over his strong, handsome face. “it’s a great field to work in and something you’re passionate about. that’s what matters most.”

he can tell by the way your cheeks flush that you’re slightly embarrassed and he can’t help but find it endearing, licking over his lips as his mind begins to wander.

wonder about what other parts of you could flush so easily or what else he could say to really make the pinkness deepen.

“i guess,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders as you look at the passing oak trees and mansions.

“and... what you said last night about traveling to build my portfolio,” you begin, shocked by the words continuing to leave your mouth. “that’s something i’ve thought about doing. i think it’d be really fun, regardless if i did wedding photographer or not.”

“yeah?” he asks, the smile on his face causing your head to jump. “i think that’d be good, too. where would you wanna go first?”

your lips purse to the side as you think it over, a love for traveling anywhere you could but having an especially strong pull toward the tropics.

“cancun or the maldives,” you answer, the financial aspect of the trip leaving it most likely impossible for you. “it’ll probably never happen, because i’d have to sell my first born, but i’ve always wanted to go somewhere like that. somewhere tropical and fun.”

seonghwa bites his tongue about his multiple trips there, instead letting out a chuckle that causes butterflies to erupt. his eyes are too drawn to your body in the front seat, legs crossed and arms over your lap politely.

“you never know,” he hums, ripping his gaze away before you catch his gawking. “you might get there one day, after being the best wedding photographer the city has to offer.”

“oh, please,” you glggle out, cheeks flushing despite the absurdity of the comment.

you catch the smile that creeps on his face, the same handsome, carefree smile you saw in the car last time.

you try not to let it get to you, let your brain convince you that maybe he likes hanging out with you alone as much as you like it too.

“i’m serious,” he says, the earnest tone of his voice slipping into dad mode in a way he doesn’t even realize. “your parents must be proud.”

you bite down on your lip as you let out a soft, almost scornful, chuckle, a quietly mumbled “yeah,” leaving your mouth that causes his eyebrows to pull together.

he always thought it was a little suspicious that in the four years eunbi has known you, she’s never told him about your parents; as far as he knows, she’s never even seen them.

“she has her scholarship and stuff so she doesn’t really need them,” his daughter said one day, the two of them discussing why you were spending yet another break alone in the apartment.

“but they don’t want her home for the holidays? you told her she was welcomed, right?”

“ugh, about a thousand times,” his daughter groans in the seat, throwing herself against the window dramatically. “i basically begged her, dad, but she said she didn’t wanna intrude. i’m telling you it’s because mom is the biggest fucking-”

“eunbi...”

“you know it’s true!” she squeals, seonghwa biting his tongue in an effort to be the bigger and better parent. “i don’t even know why you guys got married.”

but that’s what happens with teen pregnancies and rich families. how they were destined to marry anyway, due to their parents companies and stupid business politics.

it was one drunken night at his dad’s company party and a broken condom that sealed his fate with finality - made him go from a single, carefree high school student to a married businessman with a child just two short years later.

his wife was good at one point he likes to think, remembering she was gorgeous and sassy and not like the other girls who would drop to their knees for him.

but marriage and a child and just life quickly caught up with them, already trapped in a loveless, pointless marriage by the time he hit 25.

he’d be lying if he said he didn’t stay for eunbi, that they both didn’t stay for eunbi throughout her childhood and now just grew too used to being an unhappy married couple who live separate lives.

there was never any reason for them to divorce though, no one serious in his or his wife’s lives and the hassle of money and disputing houses and cars and assets far too draining.

“i don’t believe i’ve ever met them,” seonghwa says, pulling into the store parking lot to see it’s less crowded than he suspected it’d be. “what do they do?”

you couldn’t imagine anything more unbearable than disclosing to your friend’s hot dad who you may or may not have feelings for about the messed up relationship with your parents.

it just screams daddy issues, which might say a lot about your very attraction to him in the first place.

“they run a little restaurant back in my home town. it’s about three hours from campus, which is why i don’t really go home for breaks.”

seonghwa hums lowly, nodding his head as he looks at you at a stop sign.

you’re unnerved by the way his eyes roam you, like he can see signs of you being uncomfortable about your parents and wants to know why - but why would he care? you’re only his daughter’s roommate.

“do you miss seeing them?”

you lick over your lips nervously, watching as his eyes darken every so slightly.

he watches each and every of your movements carefully, so in tune with your reactions and breaths you can just feel yourself getting more and more worked up.

not in the slightest, you wanna say. i’ll probably never see them again and have no qualms about it, mr. park.

“i suppose,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders as you apprehensively meet his gaze.

“you suppose?” he asks, concern etched on his face. “when was the time you’ve seen them? since your freshmen year?”

you avert your gaze as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, in no way wanting to have this discussion at ten a.m. when, much to your pleasure, an impatient car behind beeps at seonghwa’s mercedes.

his dark eyes move to the rearview mirror, narrowed and irritated in a way you can’t help but think is sexy, before he puts his foot off the break and turns into the parking lot.

“i think this person’s leaving,” you mutter when you notice another car go in reverse, seonghwa snatching the spot before the impatient, crotchety lady behind him could steal it.

you can’t help but smirk as seonghwa eyes her when you get out of the car, giving him a look that’s half judgmental and half amused.

“what? she beeped at me.”

“aren’t you supposed to be, like, an adult?”

he rolls his eyes as he takes a cart from the pile, nodding his head for you to go in front and “stop talking back to an elder.”

you can’t help but smirk at his playfulness, taking your spot in the front and pretending as if you always move your hips this much when you walk casually; you would’ve felt embarrassed, had you not turned around a few moments later to see his eyes already on you.

“where to first, mr. park?”

he has to bite back the groan threatening to leave his mouth, reminding himself to keep himself in check this month - starting tomorrow.

“depends, y/n,” he hums, voice far too deep and sultry to be surrounded by innocent bystanders in the grocery store. “what do you want?”

words are caught in your throat and you can only stare dumbly, your plan quickly back firing as he appears to do the same - but it’s gotta be in your head, right?

regardless, it quickly humbles you in the form of a small, unsure shrug.

it’s how you two start walking up and down the aisles, seonghwa putting in what he remembers and items on his mental list while also insisting you put in anything you want.

your arms bump ever so often, softly apologizing and acknowledging it the first few times before you both realize it may be happening on purpose.

you stick close to him when the aisles get tight and crowded, his deep voice telling you to “go ahead,” causing you to swallow shakily. you feel the presence of his hand just a few inches from your hips, lingering and hovering but never fully touching.

it’s finally when you’re in the bread aisle, seonghwa a few feet away talking to the man at the bakery counter, that you decide to put something in the cart.

you would usually never accept someone’s offer to buy you something, already feeling bad about staying with them rent free and eating their meals without compensating.

but the brioche loaf brand is one of your favorites, only sold on occasion at the corner store near campus.

you press up on your tippy toes to grab the bag of bread, stretching your arm up with all your might. the plastic slips through your fingers just as you’re about to snatch it down, letting out an annoyed huff as you pulled down your sweater dress.

you mumble your annoyances before trying again, back on the tips of your toes with your arm raising when you feel a hand on the small of your back.

it’s large and warm and seeping through the thin material of your burgundy dress, a snappy protest about to leave your mouth when you catch mr. park’s face in your peripheral.

there’s a content look on his face as he takes the bag with ease, holding it above your head as his hand moves from your back to your waist with a gentle touch.

you look at him with wide eyes and a pounding heart, his hand on your waist so foreign and strange but... good. something you didn’t even realize you’d been craving until it happened.

the strength and warmth of his hand, though if you think about it just enough, you can feel the weight of his wedding band through the fabric.

“is this what you wanted?”

his voice is deep and low as he speaks to you and you alone, your eyes raising to see him staring down at you. you can’t make out the expression in them, just the darkness in his eyes and the frantic beating of your heart.

you can’t even being to understand the context of his words right now because, yes, this is exactly what you’ve wanted - but he doesn’t know that, right?

“w-what?”

he can’t help the smirk that crosses his face, all sorts of pride and satisfaction and arousal coursing through his veins at your current disposition.

“the bread,” he says, stepping back and holding it out to you. “is this the one you wanted?”

your eyes narrow as you look at him, the smirk on his face, the amusement in his gaze, the playfulness that’s radiating off him - is he fucking with you?

“oh... i... yes,” you finally say, coming to your senses and not allowing yourself to think this way anymore. “that’s the one. i hope it’s okay.”

“of course,” he hums, placing the bread in the cart before going back to the front handles. “you can get anything you want, i already told you that.”

you nod dumbly as you follow beside him, seonghwa picking more things off the shelves and muttering the list to himself as you try to get your shit together.

because yes, you’re attracted to him and yes, you’ve found yourself alone with him for more than two days in a row and yes, there’s been some lingering looks and touches but that doesn’t mean anything.

you can’t let your own deluded thoughts and desires get in the way of reality.

the reality that he’s your friend and roommate’s married father and you’re a college student. he doesn’t want you just as much as you shouldn’t want him so what’s the problem here?

maybe it’s that you’re a 22-year-old woman who’s only been on a handful of dates.

that the last time you made out with someone was when you were drunk and dared to kiss the first guy that walked through the bar (luckily, somewhat attractive and surprisingly polite).

that, maybe, you’re so horribly touch-starved and aching for affection, you’re trying to find it in a hot father figure who’s just as kind as he sexy - and that, you think, is the second most tragic thing here.

because the first would absolutely be thinking that any of this, any of these stares or touches or coincidences of eunbi leaving you two alone, means something.

means that maybe this break is for you two is create an attraction and build some sort of bond and-

“y/n.”

you’re barely able to register seonghwa’s voice before his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling your body into his taller one and having you pressed up right against him.

you were so lost in thought of him that you didn’t see the older women skirting her cart around the aisle quickly, phone pressed to her ear as she yells to her husband about the christmas ham.

you’re not even sure if she shoots you a look of sorrow or utters any apology, too consumed and distracted by the feeling and proximity of mr. park.

his arm wrapped around you, your body pressed flush up against him, his neck craned down to look at you with a building... something in his eyes. playfulness and teasing but also something darker, something that makes your stomach swoop and renders you unable to move.

“are you always so clumsy and distracted?” he mumbles lowly, his deep voice quiet for only you two to hear - like he knows even in a sea of strangers, he has to keep these interactions quiet.

“what would you do if i wasn’t here to help you, y/n?”

i wouldn’t have been distracted in the first place, you’re tempted to say - but you certainly don’t wanna open that can of worms, especially not in the middle of this grocery store with the way your heart is pounding.

“i... i’m sorry, i was distracted,” you mutter, playing up the damsel in distress just a little bit. “my mistake, mr. park.”

he licks over his lips, swearing his name just being spoken has never effected him like this. he doesn’t even know where this attraction came from, seeing you leave the dorm building yesterday morning and something in his body jumping at the sight of you.

maybe it’s just showing how unhappy he really is with his life, living day to day to just work. hang out with his friends and go to sleep alone - he doesn’t remember the last time his wife touched him, looked at him like she wanted him or made any move to be with him.

he just knows that you showed up, looking so pretty and wide-eyed and coy, and is now about to lose his mind.

“it’s alright,” he says, hoping you don’t hear the thick tension he hears in his own voice, like he’s some idiotic, hormonal young boy. “i think we only have a few more aisles left, anyway.”

he plucks the remaining items off the shelves before you both make your way to the self check-out, him scanning and you bagging because “eunbi says if my career as a photographer fails, i could be the best grocery bagger ever.”

“that’s just because she puts the bread on the bottom,” seonghwa mutters, a smile on your face as you nod your head - she squished one too many of your brioche loafs before you realized bagging just wasn’t for her.

your fingers graze ever so often, the coldness of his tips a stark contrast to your warmer ones.

a particularly big, bulk bag of vegetables proves to be a challenge for you, working through the packed bag with some difficulty. you let out an annoyed groan as you play a dangerous game of tetris, trying not to rip open the brown paper bag.

you finally get the box inside, a little bit prouder than you care to admit, when your precious brioche loaf is dropped right atop. you look up at seonghwa to see him already apologizing, your brow raised as you look at the older man in confusion.

did he think your hand was out? why would he just throw the food at you?

but it’s only when you feel a little more air than normal on your chest that you see what could’ve possibly caused the distraction, the white lace from your bra sticking out.

your cleavage in this dress was hidden for the most part, only becoming a little more obvious when you moved around or packed a shitload of groceries. it makes you bite back a smirk as you put two and two together, looking up to see his eyes still lingering over you.

two can play at this game mr. park.

“mr. park,” you begin, feigning a certain kind of innocence as you place your bread atop the other groceries and finally look up at him. “are you always so clumsy?”

it takes a few seconds for a smile to pull at his lips, the tick in his jaw not going unnoticed to you - so maybe this wasn’t all in your head. maybe he wants you too... possibly.

“you’re funny, y/n,” he mumbles, a smile pulling at your lips as he takes out his black card. “i guess i was distracted, too.”

you swallow the lump in your throat as you feel the slightest hint of arousal run through you, shaking it off and letting out a forced, girlish chuckle.

you pack the car a few minutes later without any lingering eyes or touches, seonghwa telling you about the meals they plan on cooking for christmas.

they usually don’t make their own food for holidays but decided to have a more traditional set up for you and eunbi’s arrival - he also hasn’t cooked a meal for his family in god knows how long.

“that’ll be great, thank you,” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt in as he backs out the spot. “i’m kind of a picky eater but i’ll eat anything you guys provide me.”

“and you have the whole brioche loaf,” seonghwa says, a giggle leaving your mouth as you nod your head.

“true. it’s really good.”

“i’ve never tried, perhaps you’d be willing to-”

his wife’s name popping up on his car dashboard acts as a way to bring you back to reality, brings a certain kind of silence over the both of you for a few seconds.

like he wasn’t just rubbing his body against yours and you weren’t just flirting with him in the form of smirking lips and snarky comments.

you watch a twinge of annoyance behind seonghwa’s eyes, gaze roaming over the screen as if he’s in contemplation before muttering “one second.”

“hello?”

“where are you?” her voice snaps in annoyance, “i told you we had that board meeting at one.”

“and it’s only noon,” his deep voice mumbles, not matching her level of irritation but sounding a whole lot different than a few seconds ago. “me and y/n are coming back now.”

“y/n?” she spats, like it’s a disgusting piece of food she wouldn’t dare put in her mouth. “what about eunbi?”

“she went off with jiwoon before i could get her in the car.”

“so it was only you two?” she asks, the snide judgment and underlying tone in her voice causing your stomach to churn. “did she ask you to buy a bunch of-”

“i’ll be home in twenty and then be on my way over,” he says, cutting her off and hanging up before she can even get another word you.

your stomach churns and a sick feeling comes over you, her utter dislike and disdain for you causing you to bite your lip.

because not only does she not like you to be with her daughter, she doesn’t want you with her husband (although, you suppose, you can’t really blame her for that one).

“i’m sorry about that,” seonghwa winces, the silence lingering between you two heavy. “you could’ve gotten anything you wanted, y/n. this is your christmas too. don’t feel bad about anything, okay?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, your gaze moving to his as he stops at the red light.

your eyes lingering over his and his doing the very same, hand twitching to reach out and move the piece of hair from your slightly flushed face.

and there was something about the way you were both looking at each other, eyes so focused and unwavering and honest, that had you thinking maybe all of this wasn’t in your heads.

but it didn’t mean either of you could act on it - they were just... feelings of lust and wonder and all things forbidden, not seriously believing that a relationship like this could unfold right under the nose of his wife, his daughter and your roommate.

unless the pull was so desperate.

so overwhelming and all-consuming and present between the both of you, little moments couldn’t help but happen.

strike one:

with none other than eunbi as a distraction, the girl promising she wasn’t gonna leave you alone anymore, you were able to take your mind off everything.

the tension-filled, heart pounding moments with mr. park that felt just as wrong as they did right.

you spent a few nights going out with her, jiwoon and all of their high school friends, a surprisingly nice group of young adults who you got along well with.

they were loud and crazy and did far too many shots but they also seemed to be genuinely kind. even the boy who was flirting with you all night, handsome and tall with pretty dark eyes, acted as a good distraction.

grinding up against him as the music pounded throughout the bar, alcohol coursing through your veins allowing you to forget about the older man who’s been living in your head for almost a week now.

“how have i never met you before, y/n?” the boy mumbled lowly in your ear, your head against his shoulder carelessly.

but it was right there in that moment, him saying your name, that the moment was over.

because it just didn’t sound like seonghwa, as delusional as that was.

it didn’t get your heart racing or lips quirking the same way it did when you heard the older man say it. the smile attached to his handsome, mature face and the deep, lowly spoken tone that always held a hint of teasing and sincerity.

“but danny really is so freakin’ nice!” eunbi squeals to you on christmas eve, the two of you in her immaculately white and modern kitchen prepping the chocolate chip cookie cough for tomorrow.

“and you two seemed to be getting along, i saw your ass all up on him.”

“eunbi, that wasn’t me. that was the vodka. i don’t know who that girl was.”

she throws her head back as a loud chuckle leaves her, telling you again that she warned you her snobby, rich little friends have been able to handle their liquor since middle school.

it’s how they cope, she had said, unloved kids with more money than god learning to deal with the world of limitless funds and minimal parental supervision.

“well he hasn’t stopped asking me about you, you know,” she hums, her eyebrows quirked suggestively as she mixes the bowl of ingredients lazily.

“and not just because of your newfound grinding skills, which by the way, are usually learned by the tenth grade.”

your eyes narrow at her comment, throwing a small ball of dough at her that she, impressively, catches in her mouth.

“he really is just, like, so taken by you, y/n. seriously. i told him that you’re graduating this year with a degree in photography and he nearly came in his pants. he loves the artsy girls.”

“you are so vile,” you snort out, shaking your head at the girl sitting criss-crossed on the counter. “and stop saying that. we both know i’m not graduating this year,” you mumble, her face falling pathetically.

“i told you we’re gonna find a way,” she whines lowly, looking at you with all kinds of sympathy and sadness in her eyes - she would offer to pay for you, if she didn’t think you would smack her upside the head.

“oh and what? is my new boyfriend danny gonna do that for me?”

“in exchange for more grinding and a photoshoot, i think. do you want me to try?”

she lets out another giggle despite the way you pinch her leg, peeking inside the bowl with a surprising amount of pride.

"this looks good,” you mumble, swiping your finger to collect some of the chocolate dough.

“hey!” she whines brattily, thrusting a spoon toward your hand just a second too late.

“why are you whining in here like a child, eunbi?” seonghwa asks, walking through the entryway and the large, white island in the center. “what are you making? please don’t burn the house down.”

“haha dad, you’re so funny,” she mocks sarcastically, jumping down from the counter with her hands on her hips. “where are the baking sheets?”

a simple shrug from her father causes her to roll her eyes, grumbling about how she was really trying to avoid her bitch of a mother today. he holds back his smirk, about to reprimand her before she’s out the kitchen and shouting for her mother upstairs.

it’s only you and seonghwa in the kitchen now, a heavy silence in the air as you stand there dumbly - bowl beside you, cookie dough adorning the top of your finger.

“what are you girls making?” he finally asks, his body moving closer and closer causing you to swallow.

“i... uh, cookie dough. for tomorrow,” you say, lifting your finger and wiggling the tip full of batter. “chocolate chip.”

his eyes move to your finger before grazing over your mouth, his tongue peeking out ever so slightly as he reminds himself to act right.

he hasn’t been alone with you since that day at the food store, just seeing you in passing in the hallways or outside the house as you and eunbi went to and fro.

he hears your giggles at night and tired groans in the morning, quietly yelling at his daughter to wake up and get her ass out of bed.

and he knows it’s probably for the better, that you two don’t find yourselves alone with each other, but he can’t help but feel a rush of excitement right now.

you watch as he moves closer, with the same wide-eyed look you’ve been giving him since he first saw you in your apartment weeks ago.

“ahh, you’re making it from scratch? that’s ambitious.”

“yeah, we googled a recipe,” you tell him, finger still beside you in the air.

you don’t know what causes you to be so bold, maybe him attempting to carry out a normal conversation even though he’s looking at you with so much lust and desire, but you can’t stop once you start.

“how’s it taste?” he asks, his voice deep and slightly strained as he nods his head toward your finger.

you don’t even bat an eye as you slip the tip of your finger in your mouth slowly, swirling your tongue around as you take up all the dough on your skin.

it’s sweeter than you originally thought it’d be but it tastes good nonetheless, keeping your eyes on him as you reamin as innocent and unassuming as possible.

“it’s good,” you say, dropping your finger like you didn’t just make a show of licking and sucking it. “i like it better raw.”

you don’t even realize your words until you see the fleeting look on his face, tongue swiping across his lip and eyes hardening. they roam you so slowly and darkly, you can’t control the growing butterflies and swooping in your lower stomach.

“mm, me too,” he hums lowly, the hardening of his cock in his pants something he hasn’t felt in forever. it’s taking everything in him to control himself, from his eyes popping out of his head to letting out the deepest of growls in the back of his throat.

“do you want some?” you ask, cocking your head to the side questioningly.

he has to desperately hold on to his composure, not think about how easy it’d be to pin you against the cabinet right behind you. take just a few steps closer, have your back against the cold granite and let you feel just how much he wants some.

but he has to play it cool, push down these building desires and ignore your teasing because he’s almost fucking positive that’s what’s happening here.

“want some what?” he asks, his voice lowering just a tad.

he hasn’t played a game like this since college, watching as your eyes widen and brow quirks up.

but he sees that’s exactly what it is when you turn around and face the bowl of cookie dough to him, a smile just as sweet as the cookies on your face.

“cookie dough. before we put them in the oven and possibly burn them.”

the breathy chuckle he lets out leaves your stomach in shambles, his tongue peeking out and poking the inside of his cheek causing a swooping sensation to flood through you.

but before he can even think to say anything, before your eyes can look over his body and make you feel even more warm and bothered, eunbi floats back in and fiddles in the cabinets for the baking sheets.

“that woman is too much, i swear,” she grunts, whipping out the materials quickly before her head snaps to her father. “why are you still here?”

“i wanted some cookies. and to ensure y/n won’t allow you do burn down the kitchen.”

“it was one time, dad, and an accident. how many times do i have to defend myself in this house?”

you let out a giggle as you look from eunbi to seonghwa, your roommate turning her back to set up the practice baking session.

“let’s go bitch! i hope we didn’t fuck this up.”

seonghwa’s eyes roam over you for a few more moments, his tongue swiping across his lips before, finally, leaving the kitchen with his dick hard as a rock.

strike two:

christmas consisted of successful cookies per your and eunbi’s homemade batch, passive aggressive comments from mrs. park about your degree and a whole fuck ton of sexual energy between you and seonghwa.

you could almost always feel when his gaze was boring into you, when you got up to take more mashed potatoes or kept your attention on eunbi as she told her parents about what job she wants to start at next semester.

it’s also when eunbi almost let it slip about your scholarships, had you not viciously pinched her arm and caused a pained cry to leave her mouth - if you ever thought jiwoon was gonna verbally assault you, it was certainly in that moment.

“why did you pinch me so hard?” she whined later that night, jiwoon passed out on the couch after five too many homemade cookies. “look at my bruise.”

a genuine frown crosses your lips as you look at her arm, rubbing her skin gently as you mumble your soft spoken apologies.

“i’m sorry but i just... i didn’t want your mom to know that,” you say back just as whiney and pathetic. “she already thinks i’m an incompetent idiot. knowing i have to wait a whole year because i’m broke is just too embarrassing.”

it’s an admission that, while eunbi already suspected that, still makes her feel bad - it nearly makes her wanna cry, that you don’t feel welcomed and loved in her home because her mom has to be a judgmental bitch.

“y/n...”

“bi, it’s fine, oh, my god do not cry right now,” you grumble, flicking her in the head lightly.

“i just feel bad,” she cries lowly, moving hrself closer to you and away from her boyfried. “it’s not fair, y/n. you worked so hard and now you have to wait. how could they do this to you?”

a small, touched smile crosses your face at eunbi as you shake your head, dabbing at her watery eyes.

if jiwoon wakes up, he’s literally gonna beat my ass,” you say, smiling when a wet giggle leaves eunbi; you don’t want this time to be sad or upsetting. “i thought he was gonna hit me at dinner.”

“okay if he’s hitting anything, it’s gonna be my-”

“no. no, no, no.”

the snort that leaves her mouth doesn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach, looking at you with a frown still adorning her face.

“i’m sorry if my mom’s making you feel uncomfortable. she does it to every single person ever and i don’t-”

“it’s fine, please stop apologizing for her,” you say, the sinking reminder in the back of your mind that seonghwa had been doing the very same thing - apologizing for that woman.

“i know she’s stressing you out, too. we’re in it together.”

“that’s true,” she sighs, letting out a long, dramatic groan before resting her head on your shoulder. “i’m so bloated, i don’t think i’m ever gonna be able to eat again.”

and it was funny that, days after the holiday, eunbi was still convinced that she was bloated from christmas dinner.

“babe, i don’t even think that’s possible,” jiwoon consoled her, you and him sitting in her room as she gets ready to go down to the pool.

because, naturally, like everyone in this godforsaken rich town, they get ready to go to the pool that’s inside of their homes; when eunbi told you to pack a bathing suit back at your apartment, you looked at her like she was insane.

until she clarified that her pool is heated and, conveniently, indoors.

“just through the backyard,” she had said - and she truly meant it.

just a few yards away from the main deck area, with floor to ceiling glass windows that showcase the extravagant landscaping and, of course, the outdoor pool and jacuzzi just a few feet away.

“eunbi, this is insane,” you say, marveling at the sight before you.

“don’t you wish you came sooner?” she asks with a wink, your eyes rolling as you place down your towel.

you had the option to bring two bathing suits - a skimpy black one you don’t remember being so scandalous or a red one you remember eunbi insisting you buy last summer.

and you just knew it was because danny was coming, currently showcasing his impressive eight pack that, truly, just doesn’t do it for you - maybe if he was twenty years older, apparently, and somebody’s father and husband.

you shake the thoughts out of your head, walking a few steps toward the pool before eunbi tackles you from behind. you both land with a loud splash, followed by the excited shouts and loud splashes of her other friends.

you’d be lying if you said you could remember the last time you had this much fun, splashing and giggling and acting so carefree despite the many challenges you’ll have to face soon.

but that’s not any of your concern right now, currently sitting atop danny’s shoulders and trying to knock down eunbi in a game of chicken.

“you little bitch! get your nails out of me!”

“coming from the girl who literally just tried to choke me two seconds ago!”

“like it’s your first time being choked!”

and you don’t know whether jiwoon was shocked by you saying that statement or the fact that his girlfriend exposes all of her sexual kinks to you but alas, it did the trick in sealing you a victory.

a smug smile on your face as danny jumps up and down in excitement, your body bouncing and nearly falling over him had you not gripped onto his shoulders.

it’s at that time eunbi pops up from the water, hair a soaking mess and mascara running down her face. she’s about to open her mouth, probably to yell at you, before a volleyball is thrown through the air and just misses her face.

instead, it hits danny square in the head. the boy letting out a yelp before you promptly fall backwards in the water, hearing eunbi’s shrill squeal and giggle on your way down.

you pop up and throw her a dirty look, danny rubbing at the back of his side before apologizing profusely.

“it’s okay,” you giggle out, about to say you shouldn’t have been up there for so long before eunbi’s squealing in the air.

“dad, what the hell kind of aim was that!”

you feel your body stiffen before you quickly shoot around, none another than mr. park standing there looking as handsome as ever.

he puts the young men around you to shame, good-looking, muscular college boys who anyone in their right mind would find attractive - but they just don’t beat him.

his striking eyes or tall, lean stature or the fact that he’s just so fucking-

“got worse with age, bi, what can i say?” he chuckles, extra white fluffy towels in his hold that he places on the chair. “sorry, danny.”

seonghwa’s known danny for a few years now, one of jiwoon’s friends who seems... alright. not a bad guy but also not a good guy - just kind of there; but it didn’t occur to the man just how much he was bothered by him until he saw you on his shoulders.

because he could’ve put you in danger, of course. put you in danger at his house where if things got bad, he’d be responsible; as for the ball, it merely slipped from his finger tips.

“no problem mr. park,” the kid smiles, the other friends gathering around and looking at him expectantly. “we’re gonna play a round of volleyball. you in?”

“no. no dads allowed,” eunbi whines, seonghwa rolling his eyes at his bratty adult daughter.

“why not? because i’m better than all of you, eunbi?”

“oh please,” she grumbles lowly, rolling her eyes and grabbing you to lead you toward the stairs. “you know what, we’re going in the hot tub anyway. since she decided to rock my shit in chicken. enjoy my father traitors,” eunbi grumbles to jiwoon and his friends.

“i did not,” you protest weakly, feeling two pairs of eyes on you as you make your way out of the pool with your friend.

the first thing that strikes seonghwa, apart from the major twitch in his pants, is how skimpy your bikini is.

red bottoms with thin straps holding it up, a matching red top showcasing cleavage and beauty marks on your chest and all the things that are proving to drive him fucking crazy upon seeing you every day.

it’s taking everything in him to control the growing ache in his shorts, your eyes looking at him so coyly and attentively that you’re ignoring the college boy gawking at you right in front of him.

there’s a certain sort of twisted pride in his chest, you giving him attention and seemingly reciprocating his interest, when there’s someone younger right there for you.

younger and unmarried and more suitable for you. someone you can actually be with where it wouldn’t be considered dirty or wrong or secretive; but maybe that’s why you’re both drawn to it in the first place.

that, and because you’re both really hot.

“he’s literally hot, y/n! why don’t you like him?” eunbi whines to you, the two of you sitting across from one another in the hot tub outside.

the december air is crisp but feels nice comapred to the steaming water you’re gratefully submerged in. anything to take you away from mr. park shirtless and wet in the pool right now.

“i do like him, bi,” you mutter, trying your best to convince her and now seem suspicious.

“okay, yeah, as a person but who cares about that!” she whines, flopping her hands dramatically in the water. “you don’t want him to rail you.”

“eunbi!” you squeak, splashing in her direction as a warm, embarrassed blush rises to your cheeks.

“i’m serious y/n. you’ve never been railed before and danny’s such a good option. he’s hot and he’s sweet and he’s so pathetically into you, it’s a little sick.”

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, shooting her a look that screams can we please not talk about this because you don’t know how much i actually wanna be railed by your father so let’s stop this discussion.

but she only rolls her eyes, moving herself closer to you so she can tug at your arm annoyingly.

“is he just not your type?” she questions, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion for a few moments before utter shock crosses her face.

“wait, what is your type? it’s... men, right? have i been hooking you up with the wrong gender this whole time?” she asks in disbelief, “could we have been hooking up this whole time?”

you press your lips together so you don’t burst out laughing, dryly replying “yes, eunbi, i’m into men.”

but the more you think about it, the more you think maybe you don’t have a type.

“and i’ve... never really thought about it before, to be honest. i just know i’m not into like... frat guys or whatever.”

because any party you’d been to, any douchey college guy wearing a backwards hat or cut off shirt, you had never been more disinterested. you couldn’t ever picture yourself falling for someone like that, romantically or sexually.

the one time you remember thinking someone was hot was when you took film and lit with your 31-year-old professor.

“so older guys?” eunbi concludes after hearing that, a smirk on her face as she raises her eyebrows playfully. “we gotta scope out some golf courses or retirement homes?”

“please,” you scoff, a giggle leaving her mouth as she throws her head back gleefully.

“okay, really though, i’ll tell danny you’re not interested and to stop trying so hard if you’re really not interested.”

but maybe danny as a distraction will be good.

will make you see that, perhaps, someone single and your own age and not your best friend’s father will be good thing for you to explore.

so you shrug lightheartedly, the smirk on your face causing eunbi to let out a low “oooh shit.”

you look over at her and your smile only widens when she knocks your shoulder, saying that you’re looking to be a play girl and drain a rich, lovesick man of some christmas presents.

“yeah, right! why drain a rich man when i can drain my best friend,” you tease, looking around her yard and still in astonishment that this is really her life. “i mean, two pools? is that really necessary?”

“three actually. there’s one behind the guest house on the other side. a small one. very humble.”

“oh, a small one, okay. great.”

she lets out another giggle, the two of you talking over plans for new years eve.

you might go up to jiwoon’s parents house in the mountains for the weekend, spend the time drinking with the small group of friends you’ve come to genuinely like over these past few weeks.

“it’s only two hours away so it won’t be that bad either,” she says, getting up to shake the hot water off her arms. “i’ll be right back, i have to pee.”

you nod your head, grateful she didn’t piss in the pool and allowing yourself to sit there, eyes closed, body relaxed, in the silence.

you can hear the faint screams of the boys from the indoor pool area and the swish of the hot tub filter, peeking open your eyes when, suddenly, you think you hear a boom of thunder in the distance.

you watch the sky darkening and clouds coming in, signaling a storm is coming in soon and quick. a sigh leaves your mouth, enjoying your last few moments of peace before finally standing in the hot tub.

the crisp winter air blows and sends goosebumps up your arms, a shiver running through your body as you attempt to splash some hot water on your upper body.

you don’t know how you know someone’s watching you but you do, some sort of strange intuition within you looking up to see none other than mr. park standing a few feet away from the hot tub.

his dark hair is wet and hanging in his face, swimming trunks soaked and his exposed chest still dripping chlorine water.

you press your lips together as your eyes roam his chest, a hint of abs on his lean stomach that causes a small, strangled groan to leave your mouth - you will never understand how this man is pushing 40.

but the same way you’re looking at him, he’s looking at you.

water covering your body, currently hunched over trying to warm the rest of your body; but it’s when you stand he really starts to gawk, your figure standing full and tall and giving him a perfect view of your hardening nipples from the cold crisp air.

you can see the lust in his eyes the same way you know he can and you’re about to do something to just make him crack. mistakingly untie your bottoms, catching them at the last second so he thinks he’s about to get a peak.

or undo the back of your top and pout at him, ask him to please tie it back for you because it’s way too hard to reach behind and do it yourself.

or maybe you’ll just drop to your knees right there, try to see if there’s any hint of a bulge in his swimming trunk bottoms and-

his body is gone just as fast as he arrived, confusion covering your face before you shake your head of your perverted thoughts - dropping to your knees when his daughter and wife are right here, what the fuck is wrong with you today?

you blame eunbi, all her talk about getting railed when you’ve been wanting to jump her father’s bones.

you carefully make your way out of the hot tub, not wanting to eat shit and scarp your leg on the concrete.

it feels like you’re about to freeze in the cold, another shiver wracking your body before you turn to stick your cold, goosebump-ridden arms back in the hot tub. it warms you for just a few seconds, a low, satisfied hum leaving your mouth before you hear footsteps coming up from behind you.

something in you tells you it’s him again.

whether it be the way your body heats up and feels prickly, the obvious feeling of eyes burning into your exposed back causing you to remain still and oblivious.

but you can longer remain oblivious a few seconds later, when a tall body is just a few inches away from completely pressing against you.

“you forgot a towel,” is all he says, placing it on the wet rim of the hot tub.

when he leans forward to place the white towel down, he’s careful and meticulous with his movements. brushing up against you every so slightly and carefully that you can feel his hard bulge on your ass for a few seconds too long.

at first you think you’re crazy, feeling what you were trying to envision in your head, but then you absolutely know it there’s.

you can feel the wetness from his bathing suit on your legs, his cock right there resting on the thin, red fabric of your bikini bottoms and if you were as weak as you felt inside, if he stayed there just a little bit longer, a moan would’ve absolutely left your mouth.

if you pushed back just a little to feel more of his cock on you, grind your ass his hardness just enough to hear him let out a low groan or maybe curse a little.

but he moves away, almost like he knew the perfect amount of time before that happened and almost like he did it by accident - but when you turn around and see the look in his eyes, you know it wasn’t.

the same way he can see a palpable desire and surprise and tension in your gaze, causing him to suppress a growing smirk. it makes you wanna tease him back in whatever way you can but you know that eunbi’s due back from the bathroom at any moment.

so you only cock your head to the side, lick over your lower lip carefully as you grasp the towel in your hands gently.

“thank you, mr. park,” you say, your voice as airy and sweet as you can possibly make it without sounding like an idiot.

“you’re welcome, y/n,” he says, taking a few steps back as his eyes lock on you. he stays there for a few moments until he hears the door to the pool house open.

you watch his lustful, dark expression change right then and there, a towel wrapping around his lower body and his face stretching into a happy, father-approved look.

“so you’re good with anything for dinner, y/n?” he asks, his voice loud and clear enough for his approaching daughter to hear. “i know you mentioned you were picky.”

“let’s get pizza!” eunbi screeches through the air, telling seonghwa that everyone’s staying over and they’ll need at least four boxes.

but you can’t even think about pizza right now, not when this moment right here is solidifying the crazy thought in your head that your best friend’s dad wants you just as much as you want him.

you called him out later that night around one a.m., after eunbi and jiwoon were the last to pass out to your scary movie marathon.

the others were sprawled out on the basement floor, an intricate array of blankets and pillows on the floor that you attempted to weave through, both, skillfully and quietly.

there was a dryness in your throat that could only be settled by a cold glass of water, making your way through the house quietly and praying you don’t run into mrs. park.

she’s been just as passive aggressive as she usually is in front of people so you could never imagine being alone with her. wondering what the hell she’d say to you without seonghwa and eunbi as buffers.

you were relieved when the lights were off in the kitchen, padding your way to the fridge to take out a bottle of water. you twist and turn the cap off to gulp down the cold liquid in the refrigerator light, a quiet gasp leaving you as your thirst is quenched.

you briefly consider going up to eunbi’s room to sleep tonight, not sure how you feel about being squished in with eunbi and jiwoon cuddling on the couch, when the light suddenly flicks off.

it causes you to freeze and halt all thoughts, fear running through you for all three seconds before you see seonghwa’s tall, familiar figure pass you. you watch him carefully in the dim light of the fridge, his shirtless chest yet again right in front of your face.

leaned back against the counter across from you, giving you a perfect view of his toned chest and gray sweatpants.

“midnight snack?” he asks, the smirk on his face almost causing you to roll your eyes.

instead, your lips quirk into a small smile. raising your water bottle by your head and shaking it, the water swishing in your pounding ears.

“just water,” you respond quietly, matching his low tone. “i hope that’s okay.”

“that you took water? of course, y/n,” he says, amusement in his gaze as he looks you over.

you’re freshly showered and in a pair of pajamas, matching pink sets that eunbi got you for christmas one year - he remembers because he was with her when she bought it.

a soft smile crosses your face, your back getting cold from the open fridge but not daring to move a muscle. not with him looking at you the way he is and with his body just a few feet away from you.

a silence lingers in the kitchen, you not sure why he’s looking at you and him waiting to see if you say something, before he bites the inside of his cheek.

“i wanted to say sorry about before.”

your eyebrow quirks up, interest so clearly peaked as you cock your head to the side.

“what do you mean?”

a smirk crosses his face as he watches you play dumb, head cocked and eyes wide and everything about you with such mock innocence, he thinks that’s what’s driving him the most crazy.

that you do this shit and say certain things with almost complete unawareness and innocence, if it weren’t for the hidden look of desire and teasing in your eyes.

“you know,” is all he says, his voice dipping and eyes twinging darker, it makes your lower stomach swoop.

a part of is positive, even if you ask, he’s not gonna say it aloud.

he’s not gonna say or acknowledge any of this aloud and make you guys play this game until you leave in a few weeks.

and then when you leave, unsure about your next prospects of college or education or even living arrangements, who knows if you’re ever gonna see him again.

so you only hum lowly, closing the fridge behind you and leaving you both in darkness. the only source of light is from the moon outside, lighting up half the kitchen from the large bay window.

it leaves you both incredibly exposed, anyone from the outside able to see the two seemingly innocent bodies standing toe to toe with each other; but they don’t see the lustful looks and eyes full of desire, both of you so entrapped by the other, it’s obvious with the tension in the air.

“oh, well, then... it’s okay, mr. park,” you say with a smile, taking a step back as your eyes roam his chest one last time. “i didn’t mind.”

you’re about to say goodnight when you see his arm reach out, shocked but oh, so ready ready to give into your desire and feel your body crash against his or your lips connect finally.

moan into his mouth and feel more of his hardness against you - but he only takes the water from your hand, presses his mouth against the plastic rim and swigs down a big gulp.

you watch with wide eyes as his adam’s apple bobs in the moonlight, head tipped back and body perched calmly on the counter as he takes a swig of your water bottle, spit exchanged and his mouth right where yours was.

he pulls back with an unreadable expression, licking the excess water from his lips before simply closing the cap, holding out the bottle and smiling at you with the most wise-ass smirk you’ve ever seen, you’re not sure how you’re ever gonna one up this man.

"sweet dreams, y/n.”

strike 3:

your new years weekend get away turned into an extended stay that consisted of sleeping on a lumpy air mattress, five extra guests and so much alcohol, you’re positive you’re still hungover three days later.

“it wasn’t that... we only did a... i mean it wasn’t like we were....” eunbi says, the two of you laying on her bed nursing headaches and body aches to the severest degree.

“okay, it was pretty bad. we were kind of rowdy and out of control.”

“you don’t say?” you grumble, never one to black out and get that shit faced and then doing it nearly every night - maybe to deal with danny’s pathetic soft looks or whispered sweet nothings to you.

“nothing is working either. not advil or water or greasy food. we might’ve fucked ourselves for life, bi.”

but if there’s one thing that always helped for eunbi, it was a nice, long bath. steaming hot water that burned her skin and the prettiest bath bombs to make the entire bathroom smell of strawberries and cream.

so even though you didn’t want to, nothing more comfortable than eunbi’s king size bed and warm, fluffy comforter, you allowed the girl to drag you to the bathroom down the hall to set up ‘your last resort, hangover paradise.’

it consisted of every type of bath bomb and lotion and bubble bath the luxurious could dream of, sending her out immediately when you saw her sneaking in with a glass of champagne.

“are you crazy?” you ask, dipping your toe in the water to test the temperature. “that’s what started this disaster.”

“fine, more for me!” she squeals happily, turning down the lights and pressing the bluetooth button for your phone’s music. “enjoy. i’ll see you in an hour, completely hangover free.”

“we’ll see about that,” you grumble, your words falling on deaf ears as she locks and closes the door to makes her way back to her ensuite.

and as much as you wanna give eunbi shit for her pompous tactics and techniques for everything in life, you have to say that this is certainly helping.

soaking in the steaming hot water, with cucumbers on your eyes and quiet music playing through the ceiling speakers. the jets in the tub also added another layer of relaxation to it, healing your sore muscles from days of waking up on a hard, wooden floor.

the mirrors were steamed and the room was boiling by the time you got out, stepping on the fuzzy bath mat and drying yourself off with a towel. you had tried not to get your hair wet but it proved useless, your relaxed body sinking further and further down until nearly your whole head was wet.

you stretch your arms above your head as you let out a content groan, feeling the best you’ve felt in three days and ready to take a nap.

but it’s at that moment, looking around the large steaming bathroom, that you realized you didn’t bring a change of clothes in. meaning you’ll know have to walk done the hall and into eunbi’s room in just a towel.

it’s fairly late, almost 11:30, so you’re hoping that her parents are in their rooms and fast asleep by now.

you peak your head out, feeling like a spy in a cheesy action movie as you look up and down the hall. you turn off the light once the coast is clear, walking quietly but quickly down to eunbi’s room - or wing, as it could be considered

you’re almost out of the gate, just a few more steps until you round the corner down eunbi’s hallway, when seonghwa’s tall figure is coming right up the stairs.

his head is down as he looks at his phone, still in his dress shirt and tie from his long day at work. you noticed that after the holidays, he’s been around the house less - working from home when he can but also needing to go into the office more often than not.

he’s at the top of the stairs when he finally notices your figure watching him, wrapped in a towel with a flush on your cheeks and your wet hair dripping on the floor.

it seems to be the thing to break him right now, not able to tear his eyes away or think of any fun, flirty comments to keep you from suppressing the need to roll your eyes.

because his days have been long and stressful and the only thing he needs right now is to just get off - and then there you are like something his prayers have answered, standing there quiet and awestruck at the sight of his loose tie and messy black hair he’s been running his hands through all day.

“h-hi, mr. park,” your quiet voice says, sweet and soft-spoken and utterly apologetic, like you’re embarrassed to be caught in just your towel - and he supposes that would make sense, to feel embarrassed about getting caught like this your friend’s father.

but he can’t find it in himself to care right now, two seconds away from dragging you down to his office so he can finally fuck you over his desk - but he knows that would be the worst decision in the world, for countless reasons.

“hi, y/n,” he grumbles back just as low, leant against the railing with a voice that sounds defeated and gruff.

“are you okay?” you ask, something about his voice and demeanor off.

he has to hold back a strangled laugh, his lips quirking up before he bites down on his lip.

“i’m... i’m fine, thanks. work’s just busy,” he says, a certain part of his chest warming at the fact you even asked - he knows his wife won’t when he walks in their bedroom in a few minutes.

“oh, okay,” you respond, twirling with the end of your towel nervously. “well... i’m sorry to hear that.”

he allows himself to let out a chuckle this time, shaking his head as he looks over your bare, wet face; you’re too pretty for your own good, he’s not even sure you realize just how pretty you are.

just how much he really wants you and just how much he’s coming to like seeing you in his house everyday.

“it’s alright, that’s why you gotta do something you love, right?” he quips, his long fingers up to recreate a camera, pressing down as if to snap a photo.

it cause you to let out a soft, genuine giggle, nodding your head and easing the slight embarrassment of him catching you in a towel.

“right,” you say with a smile, shy smiles and gazes shared until you finally look away in fear of your cheeks warming again.

but it doesn’t stop him from admiring the view of you, your bare face and exposed chest before the towel covers up all the parts he wants to so desperately explore.

he pictures dropping your towel and hearing it fall to the floor with a plop, take in the sight of your perky boobs and hard nipples in the air.

drop his mouth just a little bit to your neck, pressing small kisses against your skin as his fingers knead your nipples, all the quiet moans and breaths to make sure you two don’t get caught shooting right to his cock.

he probably wouldn’t be able to control himself, sliding a finger into you right then and there in the middle of the hallway, pressing your back against the wall to have you trapped against his larger body.

he’d pump his finger in and out of you slowly and tauntingly, hearing how wet you are and feeling how tight you are. it’d be similiar to how this past month has just been both of you taunting and teasing and beating around the bush, occasionally letting his fingers curl to his your g-spot or graze your sensitive clit.

and then he’d drop to his knees to taste you. make sure he sucks and licks and takes your clit in his warm mouth that you’re-

“i should get back to eunbi,” you finally say, breaking the silence and ripping him from his dirty, hidden fantasies. you can’t take the lust and desire in his eyes that you see when he looks at you, an painful ache building between your legs more and more.

“goodnight, mr. park.”

you nearly run into eunbi’s room and slam the door had you not seen her sleeping form, passed out right there in the middle of her bed wearing a baby pink robe.

you look beside her to see an extra one laid out, a silky lilac one that causes a small smile to cross your face.

you’ve never felt material like this on your skin, basking in the feeling of the smooth, silky material as you clean up her room quietly - both to tidy up and distract you from the ache in your legs and last encounter with her father.

for eunbi growing up with housekeepers and nannies her whole life, it always surprised you how clean and tidy your roommate was; the sink was never full of dishes and you alternated vacuuming the living room carpet.

but it’s obvious all of that is a facade because since the moment she got home, her messy ways have shown through - you find it endearing, though, and it’s all very eunbi: a homey, lived in mess of luxurious items and articles of clothing worth more than your childhood home.

the girl in question had moved to the right side in her sleep as you cleaned, a quiet chuckle leaving your mouth. you look to see both your water bottles are empty, deciding on the brave decision to go downstairs to grab two new ones.

the last time you’d done that, you thought for sure mr. park was gonna jump your bones - and you know you were gonna let him.

your mind is littered with memories of that night as you make your way through the dark house of twists and turns, carefully going down the stairs as you walk toward the kitchen.

there’s a room with beautiful double doors on your left, a room you’ve walked past hundreds of times throughout your stay here. eunbi told you it was her dad’s first floor office, where he usually worked and had his meetings from home.

the first thing you notice from down the hall is that the door is slightly cracked open, a peak in from the dimly lit kitchen showcasing some fancy decor of a globe.

as you make your way closer and closer, your ears are met with a quiet, strangled groan that causes you to stop in your tracks; your mind begins to race with a million different scenarios of what you could be walking past right now.

your first thought is that you’re about to see mr. and mrs. park in a very compromising position over his desk - and, as sick as it sounds, as delusional and crazy and absurd as it sounds, that prospect makes your stomach sink and twist painfully.

but that would be normal, you suppose; they’re a fucking married couple after all and seonghwa had seemed stressed from work. obviously he was gonna ask his wife to help calm him down and relax him.

get all of his stress out in the form of-

you shake your head before you can even think about it, forcing your feet to move past the office doors.

and it’s like you can’t even stop yourself from peeking in, confirming to see if your thoughts are correct and you’re about to be gutted, when you take in the sight before you.

seonghwa still in his loose tie and white dress shirt, pants around his ankles and his head thrown back in his office chair as his own hand jerks his cock off.

everything about it is dirty and wrong and you know you shouldn’t be looking in but you can’t stop.

you can’t stop watching the way his hand works around his cock expertly, long and thick and so fucking nice it nearly makes you drool. the thought of you on your knees before him, taking him in your mouth and licking and sucking around the tip, making you bite back a moan.

you can’t stop your eyes from looking at his face, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut with his neck on display - perfect for you to bite and give hickies, if you were on top straddling him.

you can’t stop the painful ache and wetness seeping in your thong as you watch him get off, his groans and grunts and heavy breaths making you wanna whine out in arousal.

and it’s that suppression right there, getting so worked up and horny over the sight of your peeping tina activities, that cause you to pull yourself away.

because as much as you don’t want to and as much as you wanna help him, you can’t.

you can only scramble into the kitchen and get water as fast and quiet as humanly possible, scurrying past the office and up the stairs with the stealthiness of a lion.

you can only lay in bed with the thoughts of your roommate’s father and the noises he makes, the sight of his cock and the hand movements replaying over and over in your mind.

and you realize that night, with only a few more days until you both have to leave for the spring semester, you can only hope to never see mr. park again.

let this flirtation and fascination and utterly screwed up infatuation with your roommate’s dad be nothing but a dirty memory you’ll keep to yourself for the rest of your life.

because if it’s not, if you have to see him again and have him in your daily life again, you won’t be able to hold yourself back.

your lust will turn deeper and you’ll find yourself in a much bigger issue than damp underwear and secret, forbidden moments with mr. park seonghwa.

you should’ve known with only two days left of your stay that eunbi was gonna let the news slip.

you were at least grateful for the fact that mrs. park had a charity ball with her clan of “botox getting, bitchy sounding gold diggers who need to desperately get laid,” successfully riding her of your last friday night dinner.

“so you girls don’t want a new apartment then?” seonghwa asked, glass of wine in his hand as he looks at the two of you questioningly. “that building’s looking for a new owner, eunbi, i think it’d be perfect for you both.”

“dad don’t be ridiculous, we can’t own the building!” eunbi says, swatting her dad playfully as she shovels a piece of food in her mouth. she’s casual and comfortable without her mom’s prying eyes and biting tone, her foot resting on the white fabric beneath her.

“and besides, i might be alone in there soon. we still don’t know if y/n is gonna be starting her-”

you kick the girl under the table roughly, her face pulling into a wince as a cry leaves her mouth.

“ow, y/n! what the he-”

but it’s upon seeing your white face and annoyed expression that she realizes what she said, her mouth falling open and silent as she looks at you apologetically.

“oh shit...”

you can only shoot her a pained, sarcastic smile, daringly looking at seonghwa who’s watching the two of you with a curious expression.

“what do you mean?”

silence hangs in the air, you and eunbi sharing side eyes and dejected looks with her dad before he cocks an eyebrow at the both of you.

“girls... what do you mean?” he asks, his voice deeper and more serious, taking on a dad-like tone eunbi isn’t used to hearing from her relaxed, playful father.

and that’s when, before eunbi can open her big mouth any further, you calmly and regretfully explain the situation with your scholarship.

how you got an e-mail a few months ago about alternate funding for the art department and that you were one of the many students who, while keeping up your end of requirements, could not be awarded money.

“it’s awful that they can do that,” seonghwa says, his eyes full of the same sympathy and outrage eunbi’s held - except he knows that this happens all the time. that it’s unfair and sick and a big ploy in the education system that needs incredible reform.

especially when it hurts students like you.

“yeah but it is what it is,” you say, trying your hardest to steer the conversation to literally anything but this (in fear that you’ll scream or start crying or have yet another anxiety attack).

“i can just finish up in the fall, it’s no big deal,” you lie through our teeth, a sad smile on your face as you look at eunbi. “i’m just sorry it messes up our combined graduation party.”

a frown crosses eunbi’s face as she smacks you in the arm, pulling you closer to her just so she could cuddle herself into your arm.

“i will wait for you,” she proclaims dramatically, a pout on her lips and starry-eyed look in her gaze. “i will wait as long as i have to. if they delay it any further, father, you will simply have to sue the school.”

“father, huh?” seonghwa hums lowly, his lips quirking into a smirk.

father is the term eunbi uses when she wants to use him and his money, whether it be blackmailing unfair teachers or shitty students or calling for him when her and her mom are fighting.

“yes, father,” she says, looking to you with a sweet, apologetic smile on her face.

“i’m serious, y/n. we got your back,” she quips with a wink, a pained smile on your face that she knows means you can’t wait to let her have it when you two are alone.

“you had one job, eunbi, and you were doing so good,” you say in her room later that night, pacing back and forth as she sits on her bed like a scolded child. “literally two nights left and you let it slip out!”

“i’m sorry, okay!” she whines for the ninth time, a pout on her face as she plays with fingers; you wanna roll your eyes seeing it, knowing for a fact that’s something she does when she’s in trouble with jiwoon.

“i didn’t mean to, it just slipped out!” she begins to defend, “and it was only my dad! he wouldn’t dare say a bad word about you, y/n, he loves you.”

you ignore the twinge in your chest when you hear her say those words, feeling a tad guilty at the bodily reaction you have about her own father. how much you’re hiding from her and that you have these suppressed feelings and secret moments in the first place.

“loves me or not, bad word or not, it’s still embarrassing, eunbi,” you say, a frown on your lips as you start to hear the situation aloud.

“i still can’t pay for my tuition and have to wait almost a whole year to take a degree in fucking photography. like how embarrassing is that, all of this just for me never find a job and live in a box.”

you’ve only seen a flash of anger on eunbi’s face a few times in your life, the incident with the dorm girls and her dad and when a sorority girl tried to kiss jiwoon at the bar.

and you see it right now, her small but mighty frame jumping off the bed and lunging toward you quickly.

“are you kidding me!” she squeals, smacking you in the arm and pushing you down on the bed.

“what the hell do you mean a degree in fucking photography? or living in a box? you’re gonna be the best photographer in the world and shoot every event in my life and charge me quadruple the amount!”

a smile pulls at your lips as you hear her go on and on, hype you up and build up your confidence and tell you to never talk that way about yourself again. how there’s nothing embarrassing about not being able to afford thousands of dollars when you were alerted about the expense on such short notice.

“okay, okay, i know that,” you eventually give in, letting out a sigh as you flop down on her bed. “it’s just.... stressful. i can’t move back home but i also need to get like, a real job. a job that’s gonna pay well so i can save up as much as possible.”

“and we’ll find you that when we get back,” she says, assuring with a confident look in her eye and her hands in yours. “i can promise you, with or without my father’s connections, we’re getting you a job.”

her words prove to reassure you for the remainder of the night, when, after she kisses your ass a little more, asks if she can go to jiwoon’s for a little.

you spent that time in her room looking at nearby job offerings and building up your resume and cover letters, working well into the night hours with a text from jiwoon that she fell asleep and will be back in the morning.

you stretch your arms above your head with a quiet groan, noting it’s almost one o’clock and you’re fucking parched yet again.

it’s no surprise to you when the lights in the kitchen are on, dimly light and no noise around as you pad your way to the fridge.

you almost expect the footsteps that come in a few moments later, when you take a sip from your water and close the fridge without hesitation.

“have you told your parents about tuition?”

you’re confused by the statement that leaves seonghwa’s mouth, brows pulled together and a sinking feeling in your stomach at this conversation again - because as if tuition wasn’t enough, he just had to bring up your parents.

but you don’t wanna beat around the bush any longer; you two seem to do that enough.

“me and my parents don’t talk,” you say, straight forward and quiet as you look right at him.

it’s the first time he sees you look a little broken and defeated, a certain kind of sadness shining behind your eyes that makes him wanna pull him into you. it feels like a protective instinct he’s used to, caring for the people in his life and not wanting to see them struggle.

“they wouldn’t help me anyway.”

this protective instinct feels a little different in this moment, something else tugging in his chest that he hasn’t felt in a very long time - not until he started seeing you more.

“but it’d be a shame if you didn’t finish, y/n. you got so far and you’ve done so well for yourself.”

you smile a little at the praise, tongue rolling over your lips in a way he certainly doesn’t miss - but this moment isn’t about that. it’s not something he cares even a little bit about right now.

“thank you, mr. park, but i am gonna finish,” you say with finality, the confident and sure tone making a strange sort of pride swell inside of him.

“i just have to save up money and i’ll start in the fall. it’s really not that big of a deal,” you tell him with a smile, taking a few steps back so you don’t feel too crowded by him.

“eunbi’s gonna help me look for jobs when i get back,” you say, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as you look at him. “a big girl job. something real and hard, that’s gonna make me super stressed and agitated.”

so much so that i have to get off at the thought of you.

a deep chuckle bubbles out of him that you match with ease, the two of you sharing small smiles and quiet giggles in the middle of this spotless, white kitchen.

“can’t do what you love quite yet, i guess,” seonghwa says, his eyes roaming your face so slowly and carefully, it makes you a tad bit nervous.

you hadn’t realized how natural and easy this conversation was between you two, like you were talking to someone you’d known your whole life opposed to someone you’ve barely known for four years.

his hand itches to reach up and touch your hair, tuck the soft, silky looking strand behind your ear and watch your cheeks heat up when your skin touches; but instead, he smiles down at you, inching closer until he’s just looming over you and staring down at you with a soft, undetectable look in his eye.

“but it’ll be worth it in the end, i think. it’s just gonna... take some time.”

you lick over our lips, throat and mouth suddenly so incredibly dry, as you nod your head.

“yeah, i think so, too,” you say, your lips smushing together nervously before you open your mouth to speak again - this could be one of the last times you’re alone with him.

“thank you for letting me stay with you guys, mr. park. it’s been... really nice spending time with people for the holidays.”

he feels his heart twinge in his chest again, his eyes falling down to your lips and swearing he’s never wanted to kiss someone so bad in his life.

“of course, y/n, it’s been a pleasure,” he says, a smile quirking at his lips with a hint of something you just can’t quite make out. “maybe we’ll see each other again soon.”

it was five days before classes started that you got the confirmation e-mail - a message confirming your tuition for the spring semester was paid in full and your current balance was $0.

you had to look over the message for three whole hours making sure you had read the e-mail correctly, even going as far to call the bursar office to make sure they had the correct address.

but they had confirmed with surety that your balance was paid off, urging you to quickly sign up for the classes you need before the day was over.

“okay, you will never believe what interview i was able to score for you,” eunbi says the moment she walks in the apartment, shopping bags up her arm and gucci sunglasses perched atop her head.

“i’ll admit, the vibe was a little off with the coworkers but i think it’d be a great opportunity to-” her eyes catch your laptop screen on the school website, a list of classes and times on your screen that causes her eyes to widen.

“oh?” she squeals, running over and throwing herself down on the couch beside you. “what the heck are you doing? are you... did you...?”

the lie came way too quick and easy to you, excitedly blabbering out that there was a change in the system and your scholarship was approved - “i think they felt bad that i was a graduating senior,” you said, eunbi’s face pulled into the happiest smile you’ve ever seen.

she clapped and danced and bounced around in excitement, proclaiming you guys just had to go out and get drinks to celebrate the fact that your surprise party was back on.

but you could only sit there with your thoughts and suspicions and this overwhelming feeling deep within your stomach that, while eunbi definitely doesn’t know, her father might’ve just paid your college tuition in full.

(part 2)

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averybritishblog · 3 years ago

Text

The Ten Times I Hugely Overthink M's Character in Spectre.

1. Mallory stands at ease when in the presence of a senior.

So just a bit of a minor point, but when Max enters the room, Mallory's body position changes. His hands go behind his back almost immediately, similar to the at ease position in the Army. Probably a habit from his time in the SAS. He doesn't like Max or respect him, but is still trained to show deference to authority.

2. He basically tells us that he's had to kill someone at close range.

In the scene with Max in his office, Mallory talks about the important of human judgement when making that life or death decision. The fact that he talks about 'looking him in the eye' suggests that he's had to do just that, and pull the trigger at close range. (Also side note, in every scene he's in with Max, Mallory uses the first name but Max always calls him M. )

Numbers 3 to 10 under the cut.

3. Dude has a temper.

When Max plays him the recording of Moneypenny's recorded conversation, Mallory looks like he would actually slap someone given half the chance. There's not embarrassment or fear, just anger. (Semi included this one because my GOD he looks good when he's angry.)

4. He probably suffers with an old leg injury.

You can see it at several times during the movie. The first time I got a hint of it is when he's coming down the corridor. He's got an uneven step and often swings his arm a little to balance it out. There's other hints too. When they go into the Hildebrandt safehouse, M uses the railing on the stairs to pull himself up and onto the land. From the scene on the bridge, we also can see that he clearly can't run very well. This is probably hinting at when he was taken by the IRA, as one of the things they were famed for was 'kneecapping' those they captured. It's likely therefore that Mallory sustained an injury whilst taken by them and never recovered.

5. His command style is still very militaristic.

In the Rules scene, M instructs Q to destroy all the smart blood files and leave well alone. Whilst he provides a quick explanation as to why - in that they'll only make Bond weaker - he doesn't leave time for questions. He walks out, understanding that his orders will be followed. (Also important to me is that he's eating alone in this scene, which I will come down to below).

6. He takes pride in his work/he's incredibly neat. (Most likely both).

When he meets Bond in Hildebrandt, M's gun is in a leather case with it's own holster. This suggests it's not MI6 standard issue, but his own. It's a nice leather case as well, meaning he's invested in it. He either likes to keep things neat or he takes some level of pride in the tools of his trade. Most likely it's probably both.

7. The car.

Honestly, no idea why I love this so much but buckle in for my headcanons about this car. So it's not one of the MI6 staff cars. In Skyfall, we see M(ansfield) being driven in the latest Jaguar, where as this is a 2006 XJ Sport. That means at the time Spectre is set, it's coming up to nine years old. Now probably this is just due to filming. The production bought six of these cars and smashed to pieces four of them, so they probably just went for a car that was easy to get a hold of and cheap. But in my head, this is Mallory's personal motor, which is reinforced by the fact he drives it, not Bond. It's a Jaguar, so less flashy than Bond's Aston Martin and more of an old fashioned brand. The fact that it's a little on the older too suggests to me that Mallory is fond of it.

8. He's actually fairly sentimental and fiercely loyal.

For me, in the shot where he watches the old MI6 building crumble, he looks both terrified for Bond and also mournful at watching the old building collapse. This suggests to me he is actually fairly sentimental and is loyal to his agents, despite Bond landing M in deep shit throughout the entire movie.

9. Dude's a bad ass.

Break into the data centre of a super evil spy ring masquerading as a British intelligence agency? No problem, will just make himself at home. Walk up to a bunch of armed police and just glare at them until they stand down? Why the fuck not. Mallory follows protocol until he's 100% done and then will just say fuck it.

10. He probably was once given the chance to walk away and didn't.

Okay so this actually begins in his first scene in Skyfall where he asks Bond why he didn't just stay dead. He doesn't understand why the agent doesn't just take the easy way out and quit whilst he's ahead. Skip forward to the ending of Spectre, where he's looking at Bond walking away with Madeleine. There seems to be more than a hint of regret or sadness in his expression. To me, this suggests that he was probably once given a similar choice, maybe after he came back from Northern Ireland, but never did. So now he's eating his dinner alone in Rules one evening and getting his car smashed to pieces the next. That makes me think that Bond and Mallory's conversation in Skyfall is more of a caution from one man to the other.

OR I could just be MASSIVELY overreading all of this.

#Spectre #Gareth Mallory #My headcanons have come out to play #Ralph Fiennes #James Bond #Character Study #M #M and his band of misfits save the world again #Skyfall

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forzalando · 4 years ago

Text

dance with me | b.b.

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader au: modern, non-avengers!au word count: 3.2k warnings: mentions of alcohol/drinking a/n: hello friends! i know i've been a bit inactive but inspiration struck for bucky so here is fluff with my actual baby

summary: Bucky is the best man at Steve and Peggy's wedding, and he's dreading giving the best man speech. All seems to be going incredibly well until Bucky sets his eyes on the most beautiful woman he's ever seen among the crowd of wedding guests.

Bucky was nervous; how could he not be when in a few short moments he would have to make a speech in front of hundreds of people? Most of them were strangers which brought him a sliver of comfort, but there were still far too many familiar eyes at this massive wedding.

He had made it down the aisle by sheer, dumb luck, and thankfully stood at Steve’s side unwavering throughout the entire ceremony.

It was beautiful and surprisingly shorter than expected, but Bucky had little time to relish in that because the sooner everyone got to the reception, the sooner it would be time for him to make the best man speech.

As everyone piled out of their respective modes of transportation in front of the reception venue, Bucky felt a hand clap against his back and he lurched forward.

“Ready for your big moment, Barnes?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and turned to face his fellow groomsman Sam Wilson, a friend he made reluctantly through Steve, and brushed Sam’s arm off of his shoulder.

“You know, I think you’d be much better suited to make a speech. Your charisma, that effortless charm…tell me you don’t agree.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Barnes, and besides, I have my video camera fully charged and ready to record you. Might even put it on YouTube.”

Sam gave Bucky another pat on the back and walked briskly towards the reception, shamelessly flirting with every single female guest he passed by.

He figured there was no use in waiting, and Bucky quickly followed Sam towards the wedding party table. Bucky let out a sigh of relief when he saw that his nametag was placed between Steve’s and Thor’s; if he was sat next to Sam or Tony he might have run out of the ballroom before anyone had a chance to hand him a mic.

The celebration was already in full swing; Tony was on stage introducing the band and reminding everyone that the reception was fully equipped with an open bar, courtesy of Stark Industries as one of many wedding gifts to Steve and Peggy. Almost immediately, a server with a tray of champagne approached Bucky and held out a flute.

Bucky took it eagerly, downing one and grabbing another before the server made his way to others standing nearby. As the cool, sparkling liquid swished around in his mouth, Bucky caught Steve’s eye and walked quickly to catch up with him.

“I’ve barely seen you all day, how you holding up, Stevie?”

“It’s the happiest day of my life, Buck, I’m absolutely perfect. Peggy was looking for you, I told her I would find you with a champagne glass in hand. There’s nothing to be nervous about, Buck, hell, you can just make a toast and sit down in 30 seconds if you want.”

“No, no, I have notecards and everything. I vow that this will be the best, best man speech in history, even if Sam thinks I’m bound to screw up.”

“Yeah, I saw he brought a video camera,” Steve chuckled, his eyes scanning the crowd for Sam’s tall stature. “I still don’t understand how you can command a courtroom but you’re afraid of making the best man’s speech.”

“Simple; law is facts, best man speech is emotion. I’m great at facts, not so great at emotion. Case dismissed.”

Steve shook his head and laughed at his best friend’s corny sense of humor that permeated most of Bucky’s words. It was one of the reasons people were so drawn to him, but Bucky didn’t always feel the same pull towards other people.

“Well, it’s almost time for dinner, I’m off to get back to my wife,” Steve sighed adoringly. “My wife, can you believe that?”

“Yes, I’ve known this day would come since the moment you two met. I’ll see you at the table, punk.”

Bucky weaved his way through the crowds of people back to the wedding party table and wasn’t surprised to find that Sam had switched the name plates so that he was now in Thor’s seat. If he wasn’t so nervous, he might have even laughed, but Sam’s video camera peeking out from under the table brought a sickly feeling back to Bucky’s stomach. He quickly summoned a server and plucked another flute of champagne from the serving tray, quelling his nerves by finishing the glass in one gulp.

Soon enough, everyone was seated and plates were served. Despite the fact that there were hundreds of people in the room, it felt homey. Everyone was chattering lively and Bucky found himself doubled over when Sam choked on a green bean and launched it halfway across the room when he coughed it up.

Halfway through dessert, Bucky felt Steve rise from his seat and then heard the faint tapping of silverware on Steve’s wine glass.

“Peggy and I are unbelievably blessed to have you all here with us today. We couldn’t be happier than to share and celebrate our love with all of you, our friends and family.”

“You wouldn’t know it, because I kept it very well hidden, but I knew there was something special about Steve from the moment I met him, and I had always dreamed that one day we would be here,” Peggy spoke assuredly. “I’d love to take the next few hours to talk about Steve, but my cousin and my maid of honor, Sharon, would like to make a toast.”

In all honesty, Bucky couldn’t hear a word of Sharon’s speech. His heart rate was impossibly high, high enough for his smart watch to notify him that he seemed to be in distress, and he stared blankly ahead until he felt Steve stand up again.

“And now, my best man, my best friend, my brother, Bucky, also has a few words he would like to share.”

It happened in slow motion; Steve sitting down and Bucky rising simultaneously. He pulled his notecards from his jacket pocket, while Sam slipped the video camera out from under the table, and took a deep breath, hoping to calm his heartbeat.

“The night Steve and Peggy met, way back when we were freshmen in college, I told Steve that he was going to marry her. I know he didn’t believe me because, believe it or not, he wasn’t always the buff, handsome guy you see before you. But, Steve’s always had a heart of gold, and I know that Peggy saw his heart that night. For those that know how they met, you know what I’m talking about, and for those that don’t, well, I’ll save Steve the embarrassment since it is his wedding day and I’m supposed to be nice to him.”

Bucky heard laughter across the room, and he stood a little taller and raised his gaze to look into the crowd as he flipped to his next notecard.

“When I think about true love, I think about the perseverance that one half of this perfect couple portrayed just to get a first date. I’ll give you a hint: it wasn’t Steve. It was brutal watching Peggy flirt with this man and Steve never realized until one day Peg just planted one right on him, signature red lipstick and all. I’ll tell ya, I’ve never seen Stevie smile bigger in his life, except for maybe earlier today when Tony, ordained minister for the day, pronounced him and Peg husband and wife.”

The laughter continued and Bucky let his eyes wander across the room before they landed on a table not too far from his own, where a woman sat with her legs crossed and a dreamy smile on her perfect face.

Bucky quickly looked away before she noticed his staring, and flipped another card.

“It’s been many years since those puppy-love college days, but through every trial, every hardship, I’ve only seen their love grow infinitely stronger. It is a true – ”

Bucky’s voice cut off as his eyes landed once again on the captivating stranger; his eyes fixated on the curve of her lip and the way her eyelashes fluttered gently across her cheekbones as she blinked.

He cleared his throat and began again.

“It is a true…a true…please forgive me, but I can’t focus on this speech when the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen is sitting right in this room.”

Sam clapped a hand over his mouth, stifling his own laughter so that he didn’t mess up the sound on the recording.

“Table…ten? I think that’s table ten. The Y/H/C woman in the pale blue dress, please, please allow me the pleasure of knowing your name.”

The mystery woman straightened up immediately, a look of embarrassment crossing her face as she looked around her to see if there was, by chance, another Y/H/C woman wearing a blue dress, but of course there wasn’t.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to yell, I’ll be right there,” Bucky spoke into the mic before hopping over the table and hastening towards table ten.

Sam could no longer contain his laughter, and Peggy stared at Steve in bewilderment, shocked at Bucky’s actions. She hadn’t known him to act like this in years, ever since Dot broke his heart their senior year of college he’d lost that romantic and spontaneous side to him.

Bucky settled in the empty seat next to the stranger and flashed her a boyish, charming smile; extending his hand out for her to shake.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” she spoke as she took Bucky’s hand gently. “It’s, uh, it’s nice to meet you, but don’t you have a speech to get back to?”

“You’re absolutely right, I’ll find you later.”

Bucky gingerly lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, watching as her Y/E/C eyes grew wide in shock. He quickly ran off before she had time to say another word and made his way back to the wedding party table with a skip in his step.

Sam handed Bucky back his mic, offering him a wink and a sly smile.

“I apologize for the brief interruption,” Bucky breathed out, “but I had to know her name. It’s Y/N, by the way, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Before I laid eyes on her I was about to tell you all how Peggy and Steve will make it through everything, because their love is the truest love I’ve ever seen. They build each other up, love each other through faults and mistakes, and the way they look at each other is truly sickening in the most heartwarming of ways. I love you both more than anything. Congratulations to my favorite people in the world!”

Bucky lifted his glass and encouraged the guests to lift theirs as well, toasting to the newlywed couple in unison. Once he had taken a sip and everyone set their glasses down on their respective tables, Bucky sat down in his seat and let out a dramatic sigh.

“Man, you were better than I could have ever hoped for,” Sam snickered as he replayed the footage to see Bucky catapult himself over the table one more time. But, Bucky was paying him no attention.

“Steve, do you know her? Why haven’t you ever introduced me?” Bucky hounded his best friend as Steve tried his best to keep a straight face.

“I have no idea who she is, Buck. Peg, do you know her?”

“She looks familiar but I can’t put my finger on it…maybe she’s someone’s plus one?”

Bucky’s shoulders slumped in defeat, of course she had come here with someone, and he had made a fool of himself in front of the entire reception.

A snort of laughter could be heard from over Peggy’s shoulder and Sharon leaned forward trying to repress her giggles.

“Y/N came with me! That guy I’ve been seeing, he got called on a last minute business trip and couldn’t come but I’d already RSVP’d as two plates, so I asked Peggy if it was ok if I brought someone else. Y/N works with me at the hospital, she’s a peds nurse and the sweetest person in the world.”

Bucky sat up straight almost instantly, a giddy smile crossing his face.

“So, she’s single?”

“I mean, I think so, she’s never mentioned anyone – ”

“Great, thank you, Sharon, I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit.”

Once again, Bucky ran across the room and found himself at table ten. This time, there was no empty seat next to Y/N, so Bucky kneeled on the floor in front of her and watched her eyes grow wide as they did before.

“Bucky,” she whispered, “what are you doing?”

“Will you dance with me?”

“There’s no music, everyone is still finishing up dessert, plus Peggy and Steve haven’t had their first dance and…you’re not going to leave until I say yes, are you?”

“No, you can say no. I just have this feeling that you don’t want to.”

Y/N smiled at the handsome man kneeling before her; his bright blue eyes fixed on her face as he awaited her answer with baited breath.

“Yes, I’ll dance with you. But not until Steve and Peggy have their first dance.”

“Of course, Y/N, I’m not a heathen, I know how wedding customs work.”

Bucky held out a hand and helped Y/N to her feet. She expected him to drop it once she was standing, but his sweaty palm, which she found adorable, stayed clasped in her own as he turned towards the table at the front of the room.

“HEY STEVE,” Bucky shouted. “Y/N WON’T DANCE WITH ME UNTIL YOU AND PEG HAVE YOUR FIRST DANCE, DO YOU KNOW WHEN THAT’S SCHEDULED TO HAPPEN?”

Y/N watched as Steve helped Peggy from her seat and they glided towards the dance floor, their eyes never leaving one another.

The dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra rang through the speakers in the ballroom; a fitting choice for Steve and Peggy as they had always been sort of old fashioned. Their love was timeless, ageless, and seemed to be from a different era.

Bucky watched Y/N’s eyes as they followed Steve and Peggy sway across the dance floor, their smiles and gazes only for each other. After a few seconds, Bucky saw Steve look away from Peggy and search the crowd. Finally, Steve’s gaze landed on Bucky and he gave him a nod, asking him to join him on the dance floor.

He tightened his grip on Y/N’s hand and urged her towards the open space in the middle of the massive room.

“Bucky, I’m nervous, are you sure this ok?”

“Lovely, never, never change,” Bucky sang along to the music as they continued walking towards the dance floor.

“Seriously, Bucky, no one else is out here except for the bridge and groom!”

“…Cause I love you, just the way you look tonight,” Bucky continued singing.

Y/N looked over at Steve and Peggy to see them smiling at her, encouraging her to take her place on the floor with Bucky, so she moved just a bit faster and pulled Bucky as close to her as possible while the light baritone voice of Sinatra faded out.

“Are you ready, doll?”

“For what?”

A familiar opening guitar riff replaced the jazz from before and Y/N laughed as Bucky adjusted his stance and gripped her hands tightly.

“For this crazy little thing called love.”

Within seconds, Bucky was swinging Y/N around the dance floor and their laughter filled the air.

More guests started raiding the dance floor, but all Y/N could see was Bucky’s smiling face as they twirled around the dance floor in the most rudimentary version of a swing dance the world had ever seen.

All too fast, the song began to end and an upbeat, modern pop song took over the Queen classic. Instead of pulling him towards the mosh pit quickly forming in the middle of the dance floor, orchestrated by Sam no doubt, Y/N headed towards the nearest exit with Bucky in tow.

They stepped out into the cool night air in some sort of patio garden, and Y/N groaned at how perfect the setting was as her night had already played out akin to a cheesy romance movie.

“What are we doing out here, doll?”

“I just wanted a moment alone with the man who embarrassed me in front of hundreds of people at my best friend’s cousin’s wedding.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have been so – ”

“Relax, Bucky,” she giggled as she placed a hand on his cheek. “I’m just messing with you. But, I would like to know what this whole stunt is about, however sweet it may be.”

“Stunt? Honestly, I’m not sure, I just know that I saw you and couldn’t form any coherent thoughts afterwards. I still can’t.”

“So this was all spur of the moment, on a whim, trying to impress the pretty stranger at your best friend’s wedding?”

“That about sums it up, trying to impress the stunning stranger at my best friend’s wedding.”

“Bucky Barnes, you are so corny.”

“Only for you, doll, I haven’t felt this way in so long. What are you doing tomorrow night? Sharon said you work with her at the hospital, I don’t know your schedule or, or if you even want to go out with me but, God, I’d love to take you out.”

Y/N looked at the hopeful look on Bucky’s face, at the sparkle in his eyes, and she felt her heart lurch inside her chest. Whatever feeling Bucky was describing, she could only dream that it was the same way she was feeling right now.

“I’m sort of tied up every night this week…but I’m free next weekend? If you don’t mind waiting that long.”

“I would wait forever if I had to,” Bucky grinned as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Y/N’s cheek.

She grabbed his hand once more and they walked back into the reception hall, acutely aware that many pairs of eyes were watching them as they crossed the room.

“I’ve got to go ask Sharon to introduce me to Peggy, I actually haven’t officially met her yet but,” Y/N paused and her gaze fell to the ground, a sudden nervousness overcoming her. “I’ll come find you later? Maybe? If you’d like to dance with me again?”

“I’ll save all my dances for you, angel, don’t you worry.”

Y/N smiled so brightly at Bucky he swore his heart might stop, and he watched her walk away in a trance-like state until an arm being slung around his shoulders broke him out of it.

“I think you’re going to marry her,” Steve said mockingly, recalling the memory of a situation reversed so many years ago.

“Unlike you,” Bucky teased, “I’m not in denial. I know I’m going to marry her.”

marvel/bucky taglist: @weelittleweasley @gredmforge @vogueweasley @kaye-lantern @emeraldbears20 @barnesjamcs @thisuserlovesyouandyouandyou @fallingforyou123 @vivacesole@raiaurii @phoenixes-and-wizards @gloryekaterina @hannahmeyer1999 @belladonnabarnes @beautyschoo1dropout @loonylovegood13 @saara-sanders @le-weasley-simp @swiftss@omghufflepuff (if your URL has strikethrough, i was unable to tag you!)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes #marvel au

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nothing-more-than-hot-leaf-juice · 4 years ago

Note

Ok modern zuko would be an expert at breakdancing and sokka would be the guy who just bi-panicks whenever he does

(whoops, my hand slipped and I accidentally wrote a modern au headcanon turned zukka karate au one-shot)

Okay but consider this instead: Zuko doesn’t know how to dance for shit and has horrible rhythm, but he is a GOD at martial arts. He’s been doing some type of style since he was a kid and is a full black belt by the time he hits high school. Martial arts was always something he excelled at, but it was also something that made him feel more secure. It was something he could work on to help him protect himself from his home life, even if it wasn’t enough most times. He specifically excels in weapons forms (I’m thinking twin sais) and you DO NOT want to spar with him. Because he may be skinny and shorter, but he’s quick and can hit hard at just the right spots.

When he was younger he was obsessed mainly because he felt that belt rankings and trophies from competitions were a way to prove himself to his dad, but when he moved in with Iroh (who encouraged him to keep it up and was so proud of how talented and passionate he was about it), he basically used it in place of talking about his feelings. He didn’t talk about his home life or the shit Ozai did, instead, he put all his energy into his black belt levels, learning new weapons forms, and eventually into teaching new students as a junior instructor.

At school, he’s awkward and asocial and just doesn’t have the energy for people. Zuko has little patience for asshole classmates who ask intrusive questions about his scar or spread rumors about where he got it. He eats lunch in his English classroom and would be a complete shut-in if Iroh didn’t get him to work part-time at the Jasmine Dragon. But in the dojo, he’s focused and is able to direct his energy into improving his forms and teaching younger teens.

One of his newer students transferred from a different dojo after moving from a different state. He’s actually a freshman at Zuko’s high school but it’s not as if Zuko really interacted that much with him. This kid, Aang, is as talented and dedicated as he is, but has a long way to go to learn all the new katas. Zuko’s been dubbed the ‘scary’ trainer at the dojo. He’s the serious one who will yell if someone is goofing off and everyone’s seen that he has no problem using full force in a demonstration (little kids love him and he’s super nice to them, but he teaches the 12-15 age range). Plus there’s that scar, which doesn’t make him the most initially welcoming person. But this new kid Aang just latches onto Zuko immediately. He says hi to Zuko in the halls at school and works on his katas outside of regular practice times. At first Zuko thinks this sickeningly positive kid is annoying as crap, but warms up to him. He likes that Aang cares about martial arts and isn’t nice as a show, he’s just genuinely nice.

And maybe he sees Aang hanging around school with a sophomore girl and her brother who just might be in Zuko’s calc class and English class.

And maybe Zuko thinks this guy is insanely attractive and somehow incredibly funny even though most of his humor consists of the worst puns imaginable.

But obviously, Zuko hasn’t attempted to ever actually talk to this guy. The most that he could classify as ‘talking’ to the cute, funny guy on the robotics club is the one day in English class when he had to respond to someone’s dumbass comment about Macbeth with what ended up being a ten minute spoken essay about obvious motifs and symbolism. To which Mr. Puns and Ponytail was very obviously paying great attention to and even gave Zuko a smile and thumbs up for.

Zuko knows it’s pointless to engage. After all, he’s a senior and he doesn’t have any friends anyway. There’s no point in making any this year. Crushing on this guy from the comfortable position of the other side of the room is totally good enough for him. Totally. This is fine. He’s fine.

Besides, he’s got competitions and if he doesn’t secure the regional championships this year he’s never going to get the chance after he goes to college. And he’s got his kids to train. Aang in particular is gearing up for his first debut into this area’s tournament.

The tournament’s in October and usually, Zuko focuses on his own matches and performances, but Aang really wanted him to watch his set. So on this day, he stands on the sides of Aang’s zone instead of obsessively going through his katas in a corner.He’s not going to be able to watch the whole set because it overlaps with his own weapons portion, but he stands on the side and gives Aang a reassuring look that, ‘don’t worry, you’ll do great, you’re a talented kid,’ when his student looks over to him nervously.

And wouldn’t you know it? Aang brought some friends to come watch. And one of them is Mr. Zuko’s Big Gay Crush.

“Oh, hey Zuko,” are the words that come out of this guy's mouth that give Zuko a near-stroke. And damn if this guy’s eyes aren’t blue and pretty and he usually wears his hair in a ponytail at school, but now he’s wearing it down and Zuko wishes he could take screenshots with his brain because holy moly.

“Hey.” Is the best that Zuko can get out of his dumb mouth. “You’re Sokka.”

“Aang invited us to come watch,” Sokka nudges his head to indicate the ‘us’ includes his younger sister, who Zuko doesn’t know the name of. “How do you guys not get heatstroke during these things? It’s like a million degrees in here.”

“Oh the gi’s pretty cold, I mean, it’s got air and stuff.”

Zuko decided right there that he would be completely fine with being struck by lightning. Of course, that’s what his stupid brain would come up with. Of course, that’d be the thing he’d say in front of one of the smartest guys in his class.

They watch Aang perform his set for the judges. Zuko recognizes that Aang took his advice when he said that he wasn’t putting enough force into his hits. He’s never seen Aang be as, well, aggressive isn’t the right word, but he’s definitely putting more power into his form. Zuko wouldn’t admit it, though, but only part of his attention was for Aang at the moment. The other part was for Sokka, who was smiling bright and pumping his fists when Aang completed a row of kicks.

The small part of Zuko’s brain that wasn’t being taken up by watching Aang or trying to act normal around his crush noticed the clock on the wall indicating that the weapons portion would be starting in five minutes.

“I’ve got to go do a thing so I’ll just, um, go do that now.”

“Are you competing too?” Sokka asked.

To this question Zuko just holds up his sais and raises his eyebrow as if to say ‘it’s a tournament, what do you think?’ Because yeah, he knows Sokka’s super smart, he’s seen him churn out calc answers at the speed of light and noticed his name on the robotics club awards update on the school’s website, but he’d also seen Sokka eat 5 packs of fundip at once on a dare and unironically wear a ‘women want me, fish fear me’ t-shirt for most of junior year. Somehow he had managed to fall for the smartest dumbass on earth.

“Oh yeah, right.” Sokka eyes the sais and then looks right at Zuko’s face, “Aang says you’re really good.”

Zuko decides that thinking about Aang talking to Sokka about him was something he didn’t need distracting him during his set. That was something he could anxious about later.

“Hopefully good enough for those five assholes,” Zuko replies, gesturing to the panel of judges in the weapons section of the gymnasium. To his shock, Sokka laughs. It’s a nice laugh, too. And Zuko really hoped he could blame the blush that was one-hundred-percent creeping up his face on the lack of AC.

“You know, you’re pretty funny man,” Sokka tells him. Zuko has no clue how to take that compliment, but he really does need to go.

“Right,” he grins nervously and shifts his left foot around to bounce away, “well I have to go do my thing.”

“Good luck!”

That’s where Zuko thinks the beginning and end of his interaction with Sokka would be.

The weapons portion thankfully goes by age. And since Zuko’s one of the youngest competitions, he gets to go first for his sai katas. This is what literal years of training have prepared him for. At regionals last year, the second advanced kata got him placed high enough to qualify for states. This is what he’s good at. He tells himself that a thousand times before starting his set.

There’s not a thought in his head as Zuko goes through the form. The sais glide through his fingertips with every jab, block, and hook. The imaginary opponent doesn’t stand a chance. He’s cool and competent and graceful. It’s therapeutic in a sense. There’s enough adrenaline to make Zuko feel like he’s worth something, but more importantly, he knows he’s nailing this. Whatever the judges say about it, he knows that he’s perfected this form after practicing it at least a thousand times over three years.

The judges agree with him. He’s the first competitor of the weapons portion but there isn’t really a doubt in their minds about who’s going to place.

Zuko zones back in to the gym after bowing to the panel. He walks off, feeling lighter and letting a satisfactory smile take over his face.

He expects the hug from Uncle and the proud smile from Sensei Piandao, but what he doesn’t expect is to see Sokka, eyes wide as globes, staring at him from the other side of the mat.

Because what Zuko doesn’t know is that the second he turned his wrists in his first form during his hooks, Sokka’s brain went into Full Bi Panic Mode.

And Zuko thinks the one conversation where he couldn’t talk like a human and wanted to die for most of it would be the only time Sokka would decide to willingly talk to him. Zuko is dead wrong. Sokka, in fact, has decided that this, this is the guy his Disaster Bi Brain has decided to latch onto. Sokka’s brain and all his squishy feelings have apparently decided to attach to this aloof kid with the scar who reserved his voice for eloquent, impassioned speeches about dramas and was apparently an actual god with weapons. Sokka decides that Zuko could roundhouse kick him in the side and he’d thank him. And right now Zuko’s looking at him with a dumbfounded expression, prompting Sokka to remember how to function so he can go over to congratulate Zuko and maybe ask if his dojo provides a free trial.

So yeah, that one conversation ends up decisively not being the end of anything.

#sorry #not sorry #zukka #zuko #sokka #atla #avatar the last airbender #fanfic #I'm gonna edit and add to this #and probably updated something on my ao3 in the first time in a literal month #thanks babe for the inspiration #the babes are asking #hot leaf content

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got-svt · 4 years ago

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all the boys you’ve loved and lost during the course of our lives, we meet thousands of people, creating either a seconds long moment or memories that last a lifetime. some of them you’ll have the opportunity to know beyond their names and faces, some you may even grow to love. unfortunately, not all of them have the luxury of staying in your life forever.

❥• two: the academic rival

he’s the one that had you wondering how could you be so similar to someone, yet so different? he knew how to push your buttons and make a competition of everything, whether it was sports, academics or extracurriculars. he was the one that made steam come out of your ears and blood rush to your cheeks. but even you had to admit there was a certain rush that came with it, too bad he transferred schools just before senior year.

pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader genre: fluff, angst, enemies to reluctant friends to ??? word count: 2292

→ you genuinely thought the universe had it out for you when you were placed in the same year level as yoon jeonghan, more so when it placed you in the same class. you first caught sight of jeonghan in your first year of middle school. he was the boy seated three seats behind you. he seemed unassuming at first, somewhat quiet, and — dare you say it — nice and sweet, angelic almost. he only conversed with the other boys that sat near him, not sparing a glance to most. however, it wasn’t until a few years later, when you both started high school that you learned his true personality.

→ it was no secret that you studied hard, spending hours in the library, sacrificing nights of sleep. the results of your hard work showed very clearly in classes, on the nearly perfect marks on each of your exams and essays, how the teacher praised your answers during recitation. you relished in the gold stars, the awards, the quiet envy of your classmates.

→ you had never seen jeonghan open a single book, let alone actually read it. there was not a single time you saw him set foot inside a library. multiple times you’ve caught him answering homework minutes before the teacher walks in the room. which is why your blood boiled when you saw he was getting scores just as good as yours, finishing exams before anyone else in the classroom, his hand shooting up just as soon as yours when teachers call for someone to answer their question. eventually, you both gave up raising your hands altogether, competing to be the one to get an answer out first.

→ you wished he remained that quiet kid in middle school, who only stared at you with wide eyes when the teacher announced you had been the only one in your class to get a perfect score, who acknowledged your existence with a small nod instead of a smirk.

→ unbeknownst to you, your little rivalry was slightly one sided. you see, jeonghan didn’t care much about winning or losing. truly he didn’t mind much if you had gotten the higher score, or be the one to answer the teacher’s question first. but god, did he enjoy seeing the way your eyebrow furrowed when he did, how you bottom lip forms into a little pout, how you gripped your pen so hard he was afraid it would snap. he still remembered the first time it happened, the birth of your so called rivalry, when he corrected your answer to the class first day of freshman year. since then, you had always been determined to one-up him every chance you got. much to your dismay, he was not one to back down.

→ and unfortunately for you, academics was not the only place you and jeonghan seemed to compete in. while you were in the swimming team, he played on the soccer team. you even had a small notepad to keep tallies of whose team was winning more games.

“nervous, yn?” jeonghan asked, coming up to you as you were about to prepare for a race. if anyone else had heard him ask, they’d think he was concerned. but you knew this was only the beginning of him getting you riled up. jeonghan had never missed a single one of your swim meets, each time he comes over to you before the competition would even begin.

“not a chance.” you rolled your eyes, waving a hand to shoo him away to the stands. but he showed no signs of leaving, his feet firmly on the tiled floor of the rec center.

jeonghan raised an eyebrow at your show of unwavering confidence, but he knew in the way your voice slightly trembled that you were not as assured as you presented yourself to be. fortunately, he knew exactly what to do to rid you of your nerves. “we won our game today, so it must be exhausting for you, huh?”

“what is?”

he grinned, knowing the exact words to say to get your blood pumping just before a competition, “living in my shadow all the time.”

“if anything, you’re the one who’s living in mine.” you scoffed, more fired up than ever, determined to prove him wrong. suddenly, you couldn’t wait to get into the water, “i’m leaving now.”

“good luck, yn!” jeonghan called out with a smile, only to be met with a wave of your hand — you didn’t turn back for he would only see the blush that slowly formed on your cheeks. still it was more than enough for him as he looked for a seat in the stands with a soft smile. occasionally, he would send you a wink when his gaze met yours — though you only rolled your eyes at him when he did.

and despite the fact that you seemed to be annoyed at his presence during your competitions, jeonghan always cheered you on, his voice clear and resounding even as you swam underwater.

→ but rarely were the two of you ever actively pitted directly against one another. you were always in the same class, and on the same team during activities that teachers found it somewhat remarkable that both of you were still able to find a way to compete against each other. it was always who could be the one to lead their team to victory, who contributed more points, who their own teammates liked better.

→ it wasn’t until your phys ed teacher decided to make her two star pupils team captains in a friendly game of dodgeball that you were actually engaged in a direct, head-to-head competition.

“you totally cheated!” you yelled out as soon as the whistle was blown, signalling the end of the game. eyes ablaze with irritation and frustration, you pointed a single finger at jeonghan, recalling how you saw the ball lightly graze jeonghan’s leg but he made no attempt in leaving the court.

“i did not.” he held his hands up in mock defense, but a smile was on his face as he took in your angrily shaking figure. jeonghan wanted to burst out laughing, not even the least bit threatened or afraid as you stomped your way over to him. “my team just happened to be better than yours.”

you wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face, it didn’t matter how, you just desperately wanted to. your steps got longer and quicker at his words, cheeks flaming up both from being out of breath from playing and anger. your teammates swore they saw steam come out of your ears. “how dare you!”

your phys ed teacher stopped you just as you were about a couple of feet away from only lightly shoving jeonghan — you weren’t actually going to hurt him. grabbing you by your shoulders, she asked you to calm down and join your teammates in cleaning up the equipment, the agreed upon punishment for the game’s losers.

but jeonghan wasn’t done with you yet, staying behind as his teammates went straight to the showers, “hey, yn.”

“what do you want?” you asked with a frown, not in the mood to hear him flaunting his win so soon.

“maybe i did cheat.” he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

your eyes went wide, feeling somewhat proud that your suspicions were correct. but as you were about to open your mouth to retort, he leaned down so his face was level with and merely inches away from yours. you never fully noticed how good he looked, even though he was drenched in sweat, his hair sticking down his forehead. with a confident smile and a quiet whisper, “but i don’t think anyone’s going to believe you.”

“bye, yn!” he moved away and leaves the gym before you could even reply. but you weren’t even mad, more confused than anything else, remembering how close his face was to yours and how quickly your heart started beating because of it.

→ since the dodgeball incident that had you nearly injuring both yourself and jeonghan, most of your teachers decided that it would be best to keep you two on the same side as it would probably be the best way to keep you two from fighting. they also knew of the incredible potential you and jeonghan could hold if you actually worked together. you both were incredibly smart, talented, and resourceful. whatever you lacked, jeonghan made up for and vice versa.

→ which is probably why your english teacher decided to pair you up for your final project during your junior year of high school. both of you thought it was unfair, since everyone else got to choose their partners. the rest of your class thought it was unfair too, why did you pair up two of the smartest kids in their year? but they were also kind of interested to see what the both of you could come up with.

→ this is how you found yourself in the library, working with yoon jeonghan of all people. you would’ve much rather be paired up with the girl that sat next to you — she was quiet, but sweet. you’d rather even be paired up with your childhood friend, chan. but he was not in the same class and you hadn’t been speaking much lately. so you’d have to make do with jeonghan.

“i’m tired, i’m taking a nap.” jeonghan yawned, stretching his arms out to further prove his point.

“we’ve barely started.”

“and yet i’m already bored.” he sighed dramatically, making a show of hitting his head on the table with a quiet thud.

“what do you want me to do about it?” you didn’t bother looking up from your book, knowing that seeing his disinterested face would only put you in a bad mood.

his eyes light up at your question, thinking that you were actually asking him for a suggestion, “let’s go for a drive.”

“what? no—” was this boy serious? you had another class in thirty minutes, where would you even go?

jeonghan groaned, cutting off your words and your train of thought, “live a little, yn. not everything’s about being number one. you can miss one class.”

you told him that if he wanted you out of the library, he’d have to drag you out kicking and screaming. which is exactly what he did, much to the amusement of your fellow students and even the librarian. now, you find yourself sitting in the passenger seat of his car, aimlessly driving around town — you were sure you passed the same tree four times. still, you found the drive somewhat relaxing; especially since you two weren’t arguing.

but it was much too quiet for jeonghan’s liking. you were just staring out the window, arms crossed. he feared that he’d done something wrong. “hey, yn.”

“what?”

jeonghan chewed on his bottom lip, gripping the steering wheel tighter than he intended, “you don’t hate me, do you?”

you laughed at his nervousness. truth be told, you needed a bit of a break, so you couldn’t be too mad at him for taking you out of that stuffy library. you also knew he was asking for your opinion on him beyond this little trip. “on the contrary, i like that you keep me on my toes.”

jeonghan grinned, turning his gaze on you for the quickest of moments, “so you should be thanking me instead of grumbling in the passenger seat.”

you spent the rest of the afternoon talking, learning more about the other outside sports and academics. you were surprised at how much you had in common and he enjoyed the intense debates you had on your differences.

→ that was the car ride that changed your relationship from rivals to reluctant friends. though you were never really rivals to jeonghan to begin with. arguments became few and far in between. your cheeks tinting pink less out of frustration and more out of being flustered as he became as flirty as he was teasing.

→ unfortunately, he would be transferring schools the following year, just as you started to see him as more than a rival or a friend.

→ and you didn’t find out about it until the first day of your senior year.

“wait, where’s jeonghan?” you asked your friend, noticing the lack of his usual teasing voice greeting you in the morning.

“didn’t he tell you?”

“tell me what?”

“he transferred schools yn.”

❥• jeonghan knew he’d be transferring schools months before he even took you on that drive. he also knew he had grown feelings for you much before that. but with his father’s job needing them to relocate halfway across the country, he couldn’t find it in himself to confess. not when he knew he eventually would have to leave you. so when you bombarded his phone with texts, demanding that he explain why he couldn’t notify you of his move, all he could offer was an apology and another text telling you to check the last page of your english notebook.

you huffed as you looked down at your phone, that was all he had to say to you? after acting like he wasn’t just about to pack his bags and leave town for months on end.

still, you shook your head as you went to your closet, picking up the box where you kept your past notebooks. you shuffled past your science, math, art notebooks to find the one you used for english — still as neat and organized as you remember it to be. you flipped the notebook to its final page.

a quiet gasp escapes your lips as you read the words that were unmistakably in jeonghan’s handwriting,

don’t forget to live a little :) and don’t forget about me either.

seventeen as all the boys you’ve loved and lost. next ➤ vernon chwe, the first love

taglist: @t-secretpot @serenadesvt @chuu-soulmate

ask/message to be part of the taglist <33

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mingkily · 4 years ago

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｡☆✼★━ my baby, my home | p.sh ━★✼☆｡

navigation

starring: seonghwa x reader

fsk-0: fluff | mentions of covid, online uni and social distancing

volume: 1.5k words

vip access: @treasure-hwa & @barsformars & @midnightseonghwa & @multidreams-and-desires & @yunhoiseyecandy

“drink some more, you sound like a toad”, a loving little jab that made you roll your eyes but do as he said, because you were croaking a little; but he loved you anyway, even when you sounded like a toad. would love you if you had no voice at all, too.

sometimes you felt like seonghwa was a chronic mum friend, unable to stop pampering people even when they didn’t need it; possibly a side effect of living with seven other men of which at least five were more like boys, despite each being a legal adult. and sometimes, that was annoying you a little, because you didn’t need to be treated like a child and it did feel a little condescending at times.

today, however, was not such a sometimes.

you were crying into his chest, frustrated because this stupid pandemic had made it impossible to have a normal life, and while you’d grown somewhat used to it your studies had started, something you’d been excited for until the very first course was online already, making it impossible to get to know new people, and that was one of the things you’d been most excited for. and it felt so stupid, being upset over this when there were bigger problems - like people dying, for example -, but it just felt like the biggest problem in the world right now. it was the biggest problem in your world.

“it’s just so bad, hwa”, you sniffled, “all i see is blank screens and names that don’t tell me anything, and the teachers talk about random campus things as if any of us had had a chance to go there for more than five minutes, and it just makes me sad”, complaints that felt so childish, but he didn’t think any worse of you for it. he had a job, had chosen not to study, and even for him it was hard not seeing the usual people. and people still came in, just less frequently. he still had company. he couldn’t imagine how it was for you, sitting home all day staring at a screen in the empty apartment while he was at work. he could understand why you felt lonely, really.

“i get that, baby. i can’t say anything to make it better, either. but i’m here, and you can cry as long as you need to. or, tomorrow i’ll have to go to work, but if you need me i can call in sick. can’t possibly leave my baby alone when she’s sad.”

he was too great to comprehend, rubbing your back soothingly while you covered his favourite shirt in tears and snot, patient and warm and you almost told him to take the day off and just cuddle you, but you stopped yourself before you could do that. you felt pathetic, yes, but not that pathetic.

“i love you, hwa”, you hiccoughed, “and you smell really warm.”

“i smell warm?”, a little confused, but happy about the compliment nonetheless - if it was a compliment and not you trying to tell him that he was sweaty, which might very much be.

“yeah. like home.”

that was without a doubt a compliment, and seonghwa smiled against your hair.

“maybe that’s because we’re home, baby”, the reminder of sharing a home with him making both your hearts beat the tiniest bit faster. neither of you had expected this would be where you’d be when little freshman you had fallen in love with him, a senior because he’d skipped a class, and transferring from an all boys school to your mixed gender high school because his family had moved. but here you were, in his arm and in your common flat, living together and him comforting you through the crisis you had about having to start university during covid.

“maybe”, his comment having succeeded in making you smile, even though he couldn’t see it yet, “or maybe it’s because i love you.”

“i love you too. my baby. my home.”

together with his gentle movements on your back and the barely there rocking back and forth you did feel a little like a baby, but not in a bad way. you appreciated it, in this moment, appreciated feeling like someone was taking care of you. you liked not having to take care of yourself in this moment, having him there to take care of you when you were sad and honestly didn’t feel like you could do much other than cry. it was incredibly comforting to be pampered, wrapped in his arms and a soft blanket and him now asking if you wanted hot lemon water. you weren’t sick, but your throat probably hurt from sobbing so much, and he was always so mindful and so sweet.

“please”, you croaked out, though you didn’t really want to let go of him, in a little bit of a conflict because you knew you’d have to let him go if you wanted the water, but you also didn’t want to let go ever, especially if you didn’t actually have to.

but the desire for hot lemon water won, especially knowing he’d hold you again while you drank it anyway, so you moved off his lap, sat on the bed and kissed his cheek softly and shortly before he went to the kitchen, ready to pamper his baby some more.

“here. hot water with lemon. but be careful, it’s really hot”, your boyfriend told you a few minutes later, in the living room now because you’d missed him and had moved to the couch to at least be able to watch him while he prepared the drink for you.

“thank you, hwa”, leaving the cup on the table as you wrapped your hands around his neck instead to kiss him, your face snot-free now because you’d cleaned yourself up on the way since you passed the bathroom anyway and felt gross.

“you’re welcome”, seonghwa mumbled against you once you broke the kiss, smiling because it did seem like you were feeling better now, “how are you?”

he still wanted to make sure, of course he did.

“i’m better. but it’s still just… hard. i don’t know what to do. i don’t know how to meet people. and i feel a little lonely because it feels like i only have you and the boys, which is great, don’t get me wrong, but they’re your friends most of all, and i know it’s not how it is but i always feel like i’m intruding a little.”

“i understand”, he murmured against your hair, having pulled you against him again, into his chest with your face near his neck, “as you said, you’re never intruding, they all adore you almost as much as me, but i get it. you want your own friends. don’t want to always be stuck hanging out with me and my friends or being all by yourself. yes, i know you’re not stuck with me and you like it and you love me”, chuckling defensively when you raised your head and were about to protest, “it’s just that having a group of people for yourself would also be nice. i get it, don’t worry.”

he was way too perfect to be real, but you enjoyed this dream while it lasted. enjoyed being with seonghwa as long as you could. and were now going to enjoy the hot lemon water, prepared with lots of love and the water kettle that your boyfriend refused to get rid of and just the right amount of lemon.

“thank you, hwa”, not sure whether it was for the water or his words or both - probably both, “i love you.”

“i love you too. but baby?”, suddenly having an idea that might help and might get you some friends of your own, telling you once you hummed in acknowledgment, “how about you ask the teacher if you could suggest something like a book club or a study group or something? you could do it online, and then in really small groups offline once you know each other. social distancing and all, of course, but i think that might be better than having no one to talk to at all. and a study group would be useful, too, especially now in the beginning.”

that was a great idea, actually, one you hadn’t thought of because everything had felt so hopeless now that university had started and you hadn’t even seen anyone’s faces yet, and you rewarded him for it by setting down the mug and kissing him again, covering his face in hot, slightly wet kisses, the hot water he’d made you having heated up your lips enough for him to feel, and it was a nice feeling. warm and cosy, in a way.

“that’s such a good idea, you’re so smart! you should be in uni, not me!”, you praised him, eyes bright and face lit up by the smile he loved so much.

“you know you’re just as smart. now drink some more, you sound like a toad”, a loving little jab that made you roll your eyes but do as he said, because you were croaking a little; but he loved you anyway, even when you sounded like a toad. would love you if you had no voice at all, too.

and how could he not? you were his baby. you were his home.

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hellpotter · 4 years ago

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Hi, I’m not sure if you’re taking requests from the prompt list but if you are maybe you could write 40 or 43 for percy and Annabeth please. I love the fics I’ve read of yours 😊

pretend to be my date | percabeth

Annabeth knew from the beginning she shouldn’t have agreed with Rachel’s idea of going to that party. First of all, she didn’t even like parties all that much. Second, she needed to study. And, finally, she didn’t need any more social anxiety than she already had to deal on a daily basis.

Still... Well, there she was. Standing in the living room of someone that she didn’t even know who it was, dressed in high-waisted jeans skirts and a vintage blouse, holding a cup of some unfamiliar drink on her hand.

Rachel had been way too efficient in finding someone she was interest in flirting with and sat on a couch near her, talking to some guy that, Annabeth suspected, was in her Arts class. She had no ideia how her friend could act so easily and naturally about her interests and start a flirtatious conversation with such little effort. She acted assertively, all confident smiles and charming comments, knowing exactly when to lean over or risk touching the guy. It was amusing watching her do this so perfectly and yet in such a carefree way. She thought she would never be able to do it herself. Annabeth had too many issues with acceptance, attraction and sexuality for that. With attraction, usually came stuttering and agitated posture and doubts, for her. At least until she found trust and comfort, and by then it was mostly either too late or too much for the other person to handle.

Annabeth caught herself staring at Rachel and her soon-to-be-date, blushing. She should probably leave and let them be, find something else to do or someone else to talk.

The minute she turned around to walk away, she regretted. The heat rose on her cheeks and she all but froze when she saw him coming her way. Percy Jackson.

He wasn’t popular. He wasn’t particularly smart, either. He was on the swim team and well known for his sarcastic comments, and really, he wasn’t Annabeth’s type.

But, most importantly, he was on Annabeth’s Algebra class. And there was something about him that made her develop a huge crush on him this past year. Maybe it was the way he furrowed his eyebrows whenever he didn’t know how to proceed in some equation. Or maybe it was the fact that he actually hated Maths, but was trying his best because he wanted to make his mother proud and go to a good college. It could even be the way he asked about her and actually bothered listening, remembering details about what she told him after.

Either way, he wasn’t her type. But she had a huge crush on him, and less than zero courage to do something about that. She knew too little about him to let herself risk it.

So, when she saw him coming on her direction, she panicked. And turned around. And literally pulled Rachel out of the sofa, intertwining their fingers and pulling her body closer.

“Hey! What?”

Her friend looked at her, completely confused.

“Pretend to be my date,” she whispered quickly, just before Percy reached them with a big smile.

“Annabeth!” He greeted. “I- I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Hi, Percy,” she tried keeping her voice steady. “Yeah, it’s not really my scene. Rachel here made me come,” she nudged her friend slightly with her elbow.

“Oh, I see,” he said. “It’s not really like me, either. My friends convinced me to come, too.”

“Oh. Right,” she noticed him looking at Rachel quickly. “By the way, Rachel, this is Percy, from my Algebra class. Percy, this is Rachel, my- uh... “

She trailed off and noticed his eyes finally seeing her hand intertwined with Rachel’s. She saw Rachel’s confused look increase too (she had told her about Percy), but she was a good actress.

Percy’s cheeks were red and his smile weakened... Was that disappointment on his face?

He cleared his throat and offered his hand do Rachel. “Uh, hi, Rachel. Nice meeting you.”

The three of them talked for a while, mostly light subjects such as school and senior year and music or TV series they liked. She enjoyed how easily conversation flowed with Percy. He was a good listener, but also always had something funny or interesting to say. He made her comfortable, and, for once, she didn’t feel like borrowing Rachel’s social abilities. Hers were enough.

Too soon, Percy said he should go and find his friends, walking away with a “see you later” and a nice smile. There was something weird about his behavior, as if he was disappointed and didn’t get what he wanted somehow. Maybe he was interested in Rachel?

Her friend interrupted her line of thought by lifting their hands and staring at her. “What was that all about?”

Annabeth blushed furiously and let go of her friends hand, looking at the ground. “I just…”

“Annabeth, isn’t that the guy you’re like secretly in love with?”

“I'm not in love with him. I just have a crush on him.”

“Okay, then why did you want me to pretend I was your date?” Rachel’s question was sincere, but Annabeth couldn’t answer.

She didn’t know why. Maybe she’d panicked. Maybe she was too uncomfortable with the whole party situation that made the possibility of her and Percy getting together an actual possibility, as well as the option of him rejecting her. Maybe she was just too tired of getting involved with guys and only finding out they were homophobic way after it was too late for it not to be too personal, not to hurt too much. Maybe she was afraid of getting hurt.

“I don’t know,” she muttered.

Rachel was silent for a minute, the boy she’d been flirting with before long forgotten. Suddenly, she took Annabeth’s arm and spoke again. “C’mon, let’s get some air.”

With that, they went outside, in silence, the loud music ringing in their ears.

They sat on a bench on the yard before Rachel finally said something again. “What happened in there?”

Annabeth stared at her hands in her lap. “I don’t know, Rach. I guess I panicked. I just- I really like him, you know? And I’m so scared, I don’t want to get hurt again.”

She felt tears starting to form in her eyes and looked up, blinking, making them go away.

“Shit,” Rachel took her hand, trying to offer some kind of comfort. “That’s about you being bi, isn’t it?”

Annabeth shook her head, slowly. “I guess it is, in some way. Unconsciously, maybe. I guess I’m just worried he’s not what it seems like. I just can’t handle finding out the hard way again.”

Rachel took her in in a comfortable hug for a few moments. When she spoke again, her voice was incredibly soft and her gaze was sincere and intense, directly into Annabeth’s eyes.

“Hey. I know you’re scared. And I know it hurts and it’s not fair that you’ve been through all that and still has to worry about this. But I love you. And it’s gonna be alright. I’m here for you.”

They hugged again, and Annabeth expected that her physical demonstration was enough to express her gratitude and affection. When they pulled apart again, Rachel’s tone was a bit more playful and serious at the same time.

“But… I have to say. You’re never going to find someone good enough to love you if you’re not ready to try. And sometimes you have to risk it.”

Annabeth nodded and they got up, walking slowly back towards the house. What wasn’t her surprise when she saw Percy coming right out.

Rachel rose an eyebrow and whispered. “Well, here comes your chance.” She walked away and went back into the house, leaving Annabeth alone to reach Percy the moment he stepped in the grass.

“Hi,” she said.

“Oh. Hey,” he offered her a smile, then they fell into and uncomfortable silence for a while.

“Can we- uh, talk?”

She pointed to the bench she’d been sitting with Rachel and he nodded, before walking with her and sitting down.

Before she could speak, he did. “I'm sorry if I was a little weird earlier, I didn’t mean to. I just- I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, so I was a little surprised. But please don’t think I’m like-“

“I don’t,” she interrupted him, and he stared at her, brows furrowed and confused look. “Have a girlfriend, I mean. Or a date. Rachel… She’s only my friend.”

“Oh. I thought-“

“Yeah, I know. I guess made you think that. I’m sorry.”

“But why?” His eyes were agitated. He was confused and somewhat hurt.

She took a deep breath before answering. “I’m bi. I didn’t know if you knew it. And I- I like you. And I panicked.”

He stared at her with his mouth opened. “You like me?” He finally said.

“Um- yeah,” she could feel herself blushing. “I do. A lot.”

A smile began to form on his lips and he leaned closer to her, bringing a hand to the side of her neck.

“So you’re okay with it?”

His eyebrows came together again. “With what?”

“That, um. That I’m bi.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Annabeth shrugged and looked away, but he lifted her chin with his finger and made her look at him again.

“Annabeth. I don’t care. And I’m more than okay, if it means I can kiss you,” he whispered.

And when they finally brought their lips together, and Annabeth thought to herself that she had to stop accepting the unacceptable from people (because really, him being okay was just the absolute minimum), she realized that maybe, just maybe, coming to the party hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

send me prompts :)

#okay but this became like huge #more than 1.6k words??#and I guess I'm a little crazy #this was supposed to be simple #now it's like reflexive and all about sexuality #i'm sorry #but I kinda like it??#I hope you do too #percabeth #percabeth fic #percabeth au #high school #mortal au #pjo #oh and thank you I'm really glad <3 #maybe it's a little self inspired ??#yeah I guess it is

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filmwuju · 4 years ago

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[TRANS] Character Introduction: People around Seongyeom & Mijoo

Ki Jeongdo (Male, late 50s) Seongyeom's father / Four-term assemblyman

A politician who was an athlete. Back then, he was renowned as the nation's thief for snatching actress Yook Jiwoo, who was the nation's first love, at the prime of her youth. Rising to fame, he threw his hat into the political ring, as if he was waiting for this. Him moving into his wife's family home as a live-in son-in-law was also for the campaign fund.

Managing a family that can be recognized by citizens during elections was also Jeongdo's long time plan. As a man, Jiwoo was his trophy; and being the father of siblings who are national athletes, he was able to bear national sentiment. Seongyeom's home becoming a show window family was entirely Jeongdo's volition. Family means gathering together when needed and taking a harmonious photo, that's it. Just one is hard enough already, how incredible is it to raise two national representatives of South Korea? He regards fatherly love as an instinct, and thinks what he's doing to his children is true love. Not knowing that for the person receiving the unwanted love, that love can become violence.

He has always been privileged with vested rights, and since he's in the upper class, he always lived with pride. He has never doubted his capability of going higher, higher up. Most politicians are likewise, their final goal is running for the presidential election. And since they're running, naturally, they want to win. But Seongyeom, who used to be an obedient chess piece, keeps causing trouble. So he's contemplating on how to quash him.

Yook Jiwoo (Female, late 50s) Seongyeom's mother / Actress

A top actress hailed as the nation's first love. If there's Suzy in the 2000s, there was Yook Jiwoo in the 1980s. During the early days of her career, she went by the stage name Jiwoo, without the Yook, because her last name comes off as stubborn. This was her agency's policy. Later, Jiwoo saw her name on a movie poster and threw a huge fit. Since then, she goes by her full name that sounds stubborn for a "female" actor.

She's a perfect actress named as the Queen of Cannes; but she's a born actress who, in pursuit of her career, is far from even the letter M in the word "mother", much less be an excellent one.

Ki Eunbi (Female, 30) Seongyeom's sister / Pro golfer

She doesn't know how to love in an ordinary way, because she's never lived an ordinary life. The world's number one female golfer. With that title alone, men—regardless of their skin color—approached her, not knowing how Eunbi is like after falling in love. There are no exceptions—whether they have a strong build, or got a straightforward personality. By the time they realize how scary Ki Eunbi is not as the queen of golf, but as a lover, it's already too late—so accept your fate. Once she takes a bite, she does not let go until she gets sick of it. There's no place to escape unless you go to the edge of the world.

Of course there's an exception. When their love for her dies down, she lets go without hesitation. It was always easier to figure out separation than love. The same goes for her family. The time she spent with them in her whole life wouldn't amount to even one year because of her trips abroad. They always separated the moment they met, and she felt worried at the thought of Seongyeom, who would be alone in the huge house. My poor little brother. Their father, who likes to rank, compares them frequently; the media, who likes to chatter, bashes him regularly. My little brother Seongyeom. Seongyeom, whose sin is getting born as my little brother.

Of course she worked hard, but Eunbi's talent played a bigger part. Her sense of distance is more outstanding than others, and she's exceptional in controlling her strength. They said the only thing left for a first placer to do is to fall downwards, but Eunbi didn't know how to fall. If she didn't have talent, would it be a different story? While having these thoughts, she saw Seongyeom and thought, hmm.. it would be stressful to have no talent.

She's even sick of the first place now. Feeling bored, she was thinking whether she should retire and rest a bit, but her beloved little brother caused big trouble. What can I do? My little brother wants to do it. It's an older sister's duty to act as his shield, and I won't die from doing it for a few years more—so just for a bit longer, I'd have to stay in the first place for him.

Kim Wooshik (Male, 20) National track and field athlete

He lost his parents at a young age and was raised by his grandmother. Unlike someone his age, he believes in superstitions. But rather than saying he believes in them, it's more like he's familiar about life and is treated as a precocious child. His self-sufficient grandmother clothed him in cleanly washed clothes even though they're old, and did everything she can so that Wooshik can grow up as a bright and optimistic person. Wooshik, who grew up just like how she raised him to be, was perfectly kind and honest. He wasn't good at studying but he was smart; his hands were slow but his feet were fast. Naturally, Wooshik chose track and field. It was also a sport that he could do even with no money. He fell in love at first sight after watching Seongyeom's race, ran all the way with Seongyeom as his goal, and became a national athlete. It's his wish to run a relay race in the same competition with Seongyeom before the latter retires. No records or competition, just as Ki Seongyeom and Kim Wooshik.

He once saw a passage that said forgiveness is the biggest revenge. That's like saying the powerless can't do anything but to forgive. Ever since his days in sports high school, he experienced countless assaults and abuse under the force of power. And you say that's the biggest revenge? It was a day when he got beaten by his seniors as usual. He roughly wiped the blood from his nose using his sleeves. The superstitions Wooshik believed in were of no help at all in the face of reality. The one who offered Wooshik practical help was Seongyeom. He told him that forgiving is the victim's right. He told him that he doesn't need to forgive if he doesn't want to. As the only person who told him that, how could Wooshik not admire him.

Kwon Young-il (Male, 29) National track and field athlete

South Korea's track and field record holder. As the best sprinter, he lives up to his reputation of South Korea's No.1 track and field athlete who receives unconditional support from track and field fans. He's a narcissist who cares about nothing but himself, but takes an interest only in Seongyeom. It's because he's jealous. Whenever he's free, he picks a quarrel with the forever runner-up Seongyeom and ends up saying foolish words. I'm the real first placer, but why does it feel like I'm being pushed back by Ki Seongyeom every single time?

But still, as Seongyeom's long-time colleague, and as a sportsman, he's a friend who supports Seongyeom for the path he's going.

Kim Hyunjin (Male, early 40s) Assemblyman Ki Jeongdo's aide

Would there be another expression that puts a limit on Hyunjin as much as the phrase "aide by nature" does? However, he is a capable aide—to the level that everyone would agree in unison—who grasps everything about the Ki family, including Assemblyman Ki himself. He's machine-like, making one wonder if his heart is made of steel; he does not feel things like conscience and warmth.

Park May (Female, 35) CEO of imported film distributor May

Her name was originally Maehwi. Was it her dad's poor hearing, or her mom's poor pronunciation? Her dad, who heard Maehwi as May, registered her birth with the name "May". For a long time, her mom called her Maehwi and her dad called her May. To May, the actual party concerned, it didn't matter whatever they called her by. What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

May believed in fundamental things. This was also due to her peaceful and cool nature; is it because of that? Entering a translation and interpreting university at the top of her class and finishing her studies in a graduate school of the same expertise, she was walking the so-called elite course. But then she set aside her career path and went into foreign film translation. The reason was simple. Because films are fun, but film festivals are freaking fun. She was in Busan when she first met Mijoo. At the Busan International Film Festival, which she skipped her class for, their sharing of the same bed at the guesthouse was the beginning of their relationship. After getting to know her, she found out that she's a distant junior of hers under the same department in their university. Mijoo was 21.

There is no bad Mijoo in this world. This is the pet theory of May as the dog owner of Mijoo. Mijoo—rough and clumsy, which makes her cute and pure too—was like a dog sometimes, she had no hesitations in baring her claws at arrogant things. From then on, May took it upon herself to be the dog owner. She was worried. If Mijoo meets a good person, it feels like she'd overcome her struggles and become extremely successful*, and if she meets a bad person, it feels like she'd get stabbed with a knife in the midst of selling drugs in a backstreet. All or nothing—Mijoo, who has no in between, didn't have a lot of things. She said she's never met a nice adult in her 20 years of life. Ah... I'm stuck. No choice, I'd have to be the nice adult for Mijoo, she decided**. Just like that, she spent around 10 years of time with her, as a senior and roommate.

She had more curiosity and energy before compared to now, but she feels no excitement nor interest in whatever she does these days. When she was young, she simply felt that her older seniors were cool, but now that she's at that age, she understood. There's just no fun in doing anything. She's done them all, tasted them all; the energy she used to pour out without reservation had been exhausted since long time ago.

Around that period of ennui in her life, an unsavory incident broke out in the translation industry she's been working in. She left translation behind and set up an imported film distributing company. As a small company that mainly imported independent films and art films, it involved a lot of legwork, so business trips is a norm. Her dream was to be a salaried employee for a lifetime, but why'd she become a CEO? CEOs like salaries too.. she didn't know of this fact until she became one herself. Is this, depressing? May, who was mentally healthy, immediately began her visits to the psychiatrist. Antidepressants help people who help themselves, and May wants to help herself properly. And since she's on it already, it's better to be bright and healthy.

T/N: * The idiom used in the original text is 개천에서 용 난다, which literally means "a dragon rises up from a creek." Often translated as "rags to riches," it is used to refer to someone from a humble background who overcame their hardships and became extremely successful.

** A longer translation that would more properly express the nuance of the original sentence would be: May decided that: I'm not the best choice, but since there's no one else to do it, there's no choice but for me, at least, to be the good adult for Mijoo.

(orig post link from writer Park Shihyun’s DC gallery post)

#run on #run on trans #run on kdrama #run on drama #runon #run on jtbc #jtbc run on #run on icons #jtbc #kdrama #korean drama

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bangtansbun · 4 years ago

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Endgame || Getaway Car

pairing: jeongguk x f. reader

genre: fluff

word count: 664

warnings: none :)

a/n: hope you guys like this short little addition to yesterday’s social media part. this’ll be part 12.5 lol also listen to Getaway Car by tswift for this part. lemme know what you think!!

You guys had been on the road for about 45 minutes and you were already feeling antsy to get to Namwon and spend a whole weekend in the countryside with your boyfriend.

Of course, you had to lie to your parents and say you were going with some girlfriends, but this really wasn’t an opportunity you could miss out on. Plus, you guys were going to be seniors and graduate soon. You could handle a trip just the two of you.

Jeongguk was a great planner too. He had everything you guys could possibly need during your weekend there and he made sure to plan some outings too – taking your suggestion from earlier in the week into account too.

The drive from Busan to Namwon isn’t too far, only a little over 2 hours with no stops. You guys would probably get there around lunchtime, which is perfect because it allows you to grab some lunch somewhere nice and then check in at your airbnb. Namwon had some of the best restaurants too. You couldn’t wait to try out a few places while you’re there.

So far you guys have only had to stop once to gas up and you’d busied yourself by watching movies and singing along to songs with Guk. He was a great roadtrip buddy and an even better boyfriend for doing all of this with you.

As he drove with one hand on the wheel and the window cracked, strands of his brown hair flying all around, you couldn’t help but feel a swelling of love in your chest. You really couldn’t believe you got to have him as your boyfriend and your best friend.

You think back to when the two of you first met. You were both 6 years old and it was the first day of school. He was so shy and looked like a baby deer with his big beautiful eyes. You went home that day and told you mom that bambi was in your class.

You were the exact opposite, tiny, but wild and so friendly. You immediately attached to him. The two of you played together, sat by each other at lunch, and helped each other with homework (more so him helping you because he is so incredibly smart).

You’ve always loved him. Always felt that immense happiness being around him. That love has only grown as you’ve gotten older and now it’s turned into something more magical than you could have ever imagined.

You hoped this weekend would just further cement that love the two of you have for each other. You think it will because it feels damn good sitting in the passenger seat with him holding your hand and singing with you as you drive down the highway.

Almost feels like you’ll never turn back, just keep driving forward with him. Feels like freedom. Even though you know you’ll be right back home on Sunday evening, for right now you bask in the freedom that comes with the wind blowing over your face from the windows being down.

He catches you staring at him. You realize it’s probably been a good 5-7 minutes of you just staring in adoration and a blush takes over your cheeks. “Whatcha looking at?” he says with a huge grin on his face. “What? I can’t look at my boyfriend??” you ask with faux offense and give him a playful swat on the arm.

You both are in a fit of giggles and he keeps looking over at you with amazement written all over his face. “God, I love you so much.” You squeeze his hand in acknowledgment, “I love you too.”

Feels like a whirlwind even though it’s been in the making for the last decade. You feel warmth spread throughout your body and you thank the stars for the relationship you’ve found yourself in.

“Alright, so how much longer in this getaway car?” you ask with a giggle and he laughs with you.

taglist: @ggukkieland @hecticwonderer @kookiepout @koochiekoo @secretlycrazyhummingbird @imluckybitches @mybiasforsure @madaboutjeon @thequeen-kat @betysotelo18 @scentedsope @apollukee @nightapple4jk @caitlinmarieeblossom @leejongsukly @xtrataerrestrial

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vapid-slut · 4 years ago

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Perfect Harmony; Ch.1

Warning[s]: Swearing, Michael being a dirty bitch

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Entering her senior year as a cheerio, the reader is excited to combine both her love of music and her newfound popularity. To Michael, however, this is the perfect opportunity to fuck with his innocent neighbor

A/N: Can we say, I hate this, because I really do. I have no idea what has compelled me to post this dumpster, just know that if you read this, no u didn’t <3 + I did not proofread this so if theres any typos I’m so sorry, I’m running on 4 hrs of sleep and 5 cups of coffee

Music was your life. Your parents often joked that you were singing before you uttered your first word. Unfortunately, there were no music clubs during your past two years of high school. It was only last year that you and the glee club won nationals, hence why you were able to keep funding. School administration was never really fond of the arts, but they would bend over backward to give the sports clubs whatever they needed.

Your biggest dream was to get a scholarship, preferably for music, since you excelled at it. All your life, you watched your father slave away to keep you happy. You just wanted to repay his kindness. Abruptly, your dream, which entailed you winning a grammy, was disrupted by the ringing of your alarm clock. Your arm stretched over to your nightstand, turning the device off, bringing the sound to a halt.

Slowly, you removed the sheets off your body, standing up for a brief stretch before walking to your bathroom. You went about your morning routine much quicker than you typically would. Mostly due to your excitement, this year would be the first that you spent closer to the top of the social food chain. Over the summer, your dad became fast friends with Coach Sylvester. She had come over a few times. And although their relationship was strictly platonic, they both had grown fond of each other. A week before school, she offered you a spot on the cheerios, one you couldn't turn down. Cheerleaders were at the very top of the pyramid. Girls wanted to be them while boys wanted to be with them.

Once you had finished doing the bare necessities your morning required, you hastily made your way to your closet, immediately reaching for one of the three cheerleading uniforms hanging on the rack. You stripped out of your pajamas before slipping into the skimpy skirt, unaware that you had an admirer. Michael had moved next door a few months into your freshman year, was a rather charming boy. He quickly became a hot commodity, no doubt due to how impeccably handsome he was. You were never too fond of him, but even you had to admit that he was a divine sight.

It never truly bothered you that the window into your room was straight across from the one piercing into his. But if you could see the look of satisfaction on his face as he watched you undress, you'd feel very unnerved. The boy had always felt attracted to you. He saw you as a challenge. You were one of the few students in your grade who was still a virgin. Not due to your looks, you frankly didn't have the time to go to parties or hook up with people. Your focus was on your education. And if getting into a great school meant sacrificing your social life, you were content with that.

Once you had finished getting your uniform on and slicking your hair into a neat updo, you gathered your things into your bag and hurried downstairs for breakfast. "Mornin' kiddo!" Your dad said, greeting you with a smile. You muttered a cheerful 'hey' in response, walking towards one of the cabinets full of cereal boxes. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. My car had to get fixed up last night so, I'll have to take yours today." You shrugged as a reply, not caring. "So am I taking the bus today?" Your father shook his head, reaching for a spoon at the same time. "No. That nice boy next door offered to give you a ride today. Isn't that sweet?"

Fuck- you thought to yourself, of course, the universe found some way to screw up your day. You took a long sigh before shifting your eyes to the clock on the wall. "Shit! I'm sorry, dad. I'd love to eat breakfast, but the Glee meeting starts in 20 minutes." Your dad shrugged, not too bothered. "It's fine, go have fun and tell Michael I said hello." You nodded to your old man, and with that, you were up and out the door.

As soon as you stepped foot outside, there he was. Hair perfectly curled, toothpick dangling from his soft lips. You sighed, walking towards the blonde, waiting for him to get out of the way. "Wow, you become a cheerleader, and now you think you're hot shit?" He spat, you gave him a death glare before pushing him lightly to get inside the car. He followed suit, taking his place in the driver's seat. "As much as I find you annoying, your ass does look great in that skirt." You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the boy as he started driving. "Listen up, Pillsbury fuckboy. Though this might seem hard to understand, I don't like you. And I'd rather not spend my senior year arguing with someone as unbearable as you, so can you please leave me alone?!"

The blonde chuckled at your response. Your mouth said one thing while your thoughts said another. "Your wish is my command." He mumbled sarcastically before reaching to turn up the music on the radio to an obscene volume. The rest of the car ride was entirely uneventful, neither of you uttering a word to each other. Ultimately, you had reached the school parking lot. Not many cars were there since it was early, and only a few clubs were meeting today. Before Michael could do anything, you swiftly got out the car, making sure to slam it loudly. "Don't fucking slam the door!" He said, his voice reaching you even though you were still walking, in response you promptly flipped him off. "Fucking bitch." He uttered lowly as you slowly left his field of view.

-----

"Welcome back, New Directions!" Glee's coach, Mr.Shue, said as you embraced your friends. "As you know, this will be our last year together, and a few of our beloved friends have left for college already. Which means we'll be having auditions for some newcomers." As he spoke, he walked over to the whiteboard, grabbing his trusted magic marker. "But there's a twist." You and everyone else in the room watched as he wrote out the words American Idol. "This time, you'll be judging with me."

You would typically be seated next to Tina and Mercedes, but they were both absent for the meeting. Instead, you sat with Santana on your left and Quinn to your right. You had to admit that it felt nice. Usually, you wouldn't ponder on things so benign. But you had spent most of high school getting teased by Michael and the rest of his sought after friends. Not a day went by that slushies weren't thrown in your face, now you could finally walk the halls without fear of humiliation.

Besides that, you were also really ecstatic to help Mr. Shue with auditions. Glee club was what had brought a group of entirely different people together. So you'd be more than glad to share that with a new ensemble of students before you all went your final ways.

-----

The rest of your day went by quicker than usual. There wasn't much to learn on the first day. Once the clock hit 3:30, You rushed to the auditorium as if your life depended on it. You had to admit that you missed the stage, singing, and dancing with your friends. You made your way the middle of the seating area, taking your place beside Artie.

A majority of the auditions were lackluster. Only a handful stood out. Like that girl Marley and that kid Jake. You were just about ready to leave and go home until something caught your attention. "Michael Langdon?" Your eyes lit up immediately as you heard the name. You watched as the blue-eyed boy made his way to the stage, smug look on his face.

There was no way in hell Michael fucking Langdon, the same boy who referred to glee as "homo explosion," would ever willingly audition. His rendition of "Suit and Tie" was incredible, which only pissed you off more. Not only was he insanely attractive, but he just had to be talented too, fucking men.

You watched as your fellow glee members watched in amusement. It was the girls who seemed most excited. Eventually, it all became too much, and before the boy could finish entertaining your friends, you stormed off into the parking lot. Far too upset with the blonde to drive home with him, you sent your friend Mike a text asking if he could get you. He lived pretty close to the school, so you knew it would only take a few minutes.

-----

By the time Mike had pulled up to the building, the other glee kids were exiting. You quickly reached for the door of his car, rushing to get to the passenger seat. "You alright?" He asked, worried by how fidgety you were. You nodded. "Yea, I just wanna go home." Mike was always very comforting. The two of you became friends during your freshman year, mostly because of how many classes you shared. You both had a love for music and were smart, so it wasn't long before you two clicked.

Within a few minutes, you had arrived at your house, Mike flashing you a smile. "Thank you for coming to get me. It means a lot." The dark-haired boy shrugged. "It's no biggie, see you tomorrow, cheerio." You rolled your eyes sarcastically. "Whatever, jock-face." And with that, you entered your home.

The house was currently empty. He was taking the night shift at the hospital so, he probably wouldn't come back till late at night. You walked up the stairs to your room, dropping your bag on the floor. After everything that had gone down today, you were exhausted. You quickly took off the scanty cheer uniform and slipped on your much softer penguin pajamas.

You practically threw yourself on the bed, hoping to get some rest, but were promptly distracted by a notification on your phone. The text, from an unknown number nonetheless, read 'look outside your window.' You quickly sat up, confused, and turned your head only for your eyes to be met by Michael Langdon, who just happened to be balls deep inside some random brunette.

You gave the boy a disgusted look before pulling down your blinds. Never in your life had you been more repulsed. Your mind tried long and hard to block out any memory of what you just witnessed. After around forty-five minutes, you received another text message from non-other than Michael.

'It's a shame you missed my performance."

'Go fuck yourself, Langdon.'

'If you say so ;)'

The rest of the night, you wondered what you had done to be the new subject of Mr. Pillsbury Fuckboys torment. You had spent most of your high school years avoiding him at cost. Suddenly it seemed like you weren't getting rid of him anytime soon. You were just lucky you only had to endure this for a few more months, and then you'd be on your way.

Or so you thought.

#Hawthorn!Michael x Reader #michael langdon x reader #michael langdong imagine #michael langdon smut #michael langdon blurb #michael langdon

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ateezmakemeweep · 5 years ago

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wooyoung x jealous!reader

word count: 9k

angst (warning: infidelity)

request

you had always trusted your intuition. because while you weren’t very book smart, just getting by with b’s and c’s in most of your classes, you found it incredibly easy to read people.

their eyes were always a dead giveaway. whether they were able to look you in the face or not, if they were twinged with happiness and amusement or tight with fear and apprehension.

wooyoung’s eyes were the thing that first caught your attention, the older boy you’d seen so many times in the hallways or in the cafeteria laughing with his friends or looking around happily. but on this one particular day, he plopped down next to you during lunch and completely caught you off guard.

“hey,” he said casually, like this wasn’t the first time he’d ever spoken to you or acknowledged your existence. you looked at him warily, smiling in confusion as you waved at him hesitantly.

“hi.”

“you’re cute,” he told you bluntly, smiling in a way you know should be getting your heart and stomach fluttering. but you couldn’t help but feel skeptical of the boy, raising your eyebrow at him in confusion.

“okay...” you said, the smirk on his face at the hesitation in your voice far too handsome and charming.

“usually, someone would say oh, thank you or you too,” he says, his eyes widening playfully as his eyebrows shoot up teasingly. but you don’t want any part in what he’s trying to offer you, knowing far too well an older boy like him wouldn’t want anything other than...fun with you. and that’s not something you can offer him.

“i didn’t ask for the compliment,” you say, feeling yourself grow more defensive and snippy as he leans in closer to you. like he’s becoming more and more enticed at the way you dismiss him. “why are you even talking to me?”

“why are you trying to not talk to me?” he counters, cocking his head to the side as his eyes pierce yours. it makes you unbearably nervous, how confident and sure he can stare at you without the slightest bit of hesitation. “i wanna get to know you.”

“why?”

his lips quirk to the side like he knows he doesn’t really have an answer for you that would make sense. just that anytime he’s seen you around school, he’s been intrigued by you. he likes that you seem just as comfortable alone as you do with other people, how you always make sure to throw out all your wrappers and that you take the same routes everyday.

he can’t quite pinpoint it, he just likes something about you.

“because i have a feeling we’d be good for each other.”

and to this day, after nine months of dating, you still don’t know how he knew that. he had sat with you everyday that first month, getting to know you and watching you slowly open up to him. it had taken a bit longer than he initially thought but once it happened, you both saw he was right.

you had a natural chemistry and banter that only certain people had, something innate within the both of you bringing you closer and closer. he had asked you on a date one friday afternoon, suggesting to wear something comfortable and that he’d pick you up at six.

it had been the most chaotic first day of your life, a bizarre restaurant where you were blindfolded while you ate your meal followed by skating hand in hand at a roller rink. you both left with bruises littering your knees and hands, something very unsuspecting for a first date.

“i didn’t anticipate what a shit show that was gonna be,” he told you honestly when he dropped you home, walking you to your front door as you giggled; that was the best word to describe the evening.

but it had also been one of the best nights of your life, his contagious laugh and smile only making you laugh harder and smile wider. and when he asked you to be his girlfriend at your doorstep, he only continued to make you the happiest girl alive.

you couldn’t believe he had spent his senior with you. took you to his prom and after-prom in the mountains, got you a ticket to his graduation and showed you off proudly to his family, took you to every party that his fellow classmates had and always made sure you felt comfortable and included.

but you guys also talked about the elephant in the room, the fact that he’d be attending a college over an hour away while you stayed here to finish your last year of high school.

“what are we gonna do?” you asked one night, laid out on a blanket as you looked up at the sky. stargazing was something you guys had always done, doing it on a whim one night before it turned into a weekly date night activity.

he rolled over and held himself up on his elbow, reaching out to smooth out your hair as he looked over your face. “what do you mean?” he asked softly. and when you turned to him with tears in your eyes, he immediately took you in his arms.

“baby, what’s wrong?” he cooed. the night had been going fine, all smiles and laughs as you ate your incredibly unhealthy fast food under the night sky.

“i don’t wanna break up,” you whimpered against him, your hands fisting his grey sweatshirt as you hid your face in his neck. he pressed a kiss to your head, bringing a hand to your back as he rubbed up and down soothingly.

“who said anything about breaking up, my love?” he cooed, the term of endearment causing your stomach to swoop. he had just started calling you that after he told you he loved you a few weeks ago, remembering the way he looked at you so sweetly when he confessed those words.

“i-i just assumed you wouldn’t wanna be with your high school girlfriend in college,” you say quietly against him. “it would make sense, i guess, so i can’t say i blame you but-”

he brings your face to his as he places a firm kiss on your lips, melting into you as he palms your cheek softly. you kiss him back immediately, feeling your heart break at the thought of never being able to do this again.

“i don’t know why you’re thinking like that,” he mumbles once he pulls back, running his hand through your hair before tucking the strands behind your ear. “but get those thoughts out of your head. i’m not breaking up with you, baby. in case you forgot, i just told you i loved you the other day.”

“i know but-”

“but what?” he asks with a smirk, pushing you down on your back and rubbing the stray tear off your cheek. “you think i just say shit to say it?”

“no, but-”

“then stop. i’ll tell everyone at college i have a high school girlfriend and they won’t have shit to say about it.”

you giggle softly at his tone and then even more when he tickles your sides, your screeching causing him to smile and bend down to kiss you again. it’s a night you think you’ll always remember, a night that really solidified your relationship and made you put 100% of your trust in him.

it’s why now, as you help him move into his college dorm, you have not a single feeling of doubt or anxiety. you told each other you’re gonna alternate weekends, him driving to you or you driving to him on weekends you’re both free of school or sport obligations.

his roommate mingi was a tall, intimidating boy who the second his mouth opened you took a liking too. he was bouncy and happy and loud and him and wooyoung got on a little too well. you were concerned about the wellbeing and ears of everyone in the dorm, seeing how playful and friendly the boys were with each other already.

you had left to go home with a parting kiss on your lips and his lowly mumbled “i’ll see you soon, baby,” in your ear, his words immediately sending excitement through you. because you hadn’t even left and you were already so eager to see him again.

and for the first two months, everything had been great. you texted and facetimed everyday, he went to you and you went to him and he made you feel as welcomed at the college parties as he did at the old high school ones he’d take you too.

but then your first inkling that something didn’t feel right was at a halloween get together at his friend’s frat house. hongjoong was the type of a guy you think most college girls longed for: attractive and alluring but extremely unattainable. wooyoung had introduced him as one of mingi’s best friends, the small group of men as nice as they were handsome.

there had even been a few girls, all of them either friends or lovers of the boys, who welcomed you with open arms and took you under their wing. but then there was one girl who the second you met her, she rubbed you the wrong way.

“lisa!” one of them said, grabbing a pretty girl with black hair and bringing her over to you. “this is y/n. wooyoung’s girlfriend!”

“ahh this is the high school girl he always talks about,” she says excitedly, her voice high and nasally as she brings you in for a friendly, gentle hug. “nice to finally meet you.”

“you too,” you smile. “are you one of the guys girlfriends?”

she smirks at your question and something about it unnerves you, the way her pretty lips pull up and her eyebrows raise causing you to cave in on yourself.

“nope, no boyfriend for me,” she says. “but i’m hoping to find one....soon.” you watch her eyes travel toward wooyoung and his group of friends, you heart twinging with the slightest bit of insecurity and fear, before she looks back at you. “how long have you and woo been together?”

your eyes narrow at the nickname but you shake it off, smiling at her as you tell her it’ll be a year next month.

“aw, how exciting! that’s a long time for people so young.”

you choke out a laugh as you nod your head, watching her eyes filter over to wooyoung and his friends again. she really is one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever met, not seeing why anyone in that group wouldn’t jump at the chance to be with her.

but then wooyoung turns around and his eyes light up upon seeing you, walking over and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“hi, baby. i see you met, lisa.”

“yeah,” you say quietly, shyly smiling at him before lisa’s voice cuts in. “you didn’t tell me you guys have been together for a year!”

“almost a year,” you mumble but it goes unheard as wooyoung tightens his hold on your waist. “yup,” he says, placing a kiss on the side of your head and you can’t help but press yourself into him. “it has been pretty long, right, y/n?”

you lick at your lips as you nod your head, something about his words making your stomach knot until he squeezes your waist affectionately. “i want you to meet someone, my friend yeosang just got here.” you’d heard a lot about that boy over these past few weeks, someone in a few of his classes who rivaled him in terms of sassy remarks.

“okay,” you say softly, smiling up at him and he places a peck on your cheek. “it was nice meeting you, lisa.” she smiles at you in a way that seems forced, her mouth tight and eyes looking between you two with a cold, almost mocking expression; it’s hard to explain really, you just know you don’t like it.

“you too, y/n, i hope we can hang out some other time.” you smile at her as you nod your head, wooyoung dismissing the girl with a “see ya, lisa,” as you make your way to the other room.

you don’t question wooyoung until later that night, your head on his chest as he absentmindley plays with your hair. “woo, how do you know lisa?” you blurt out, his nickname falling from your lips causing her voice to ring in your head.

“she’s friends with mingi and them,” he tells you lazily, his eyes closed as his fingers continue to rake through your hair. “think she’s also in my english class.” you take in the information and nod your head, your quiet “oh,” causing him to pop open one eye.

“why do you ask?”

you shrug your shoulders as you turn to bury your face further into him, feeling his hand quickly pull you away so you can look at him. “y/n...” he says and you can’t help the way you let out a tiny sigh. you don’t know why it’s been bothering you all night, the way she kept looking his way and called him by that name, but it has.

and now you’re looking like a stupid, insecure girlfriend the second you meet one of his female friends. (except you didn’t have a problem with the four others you had met, it was just her).

“what?” you squeak quietly. he takes your face in his hands, thumbs softly rubbing at your cheeks as he looks down at you with soft eyes. soft and honest and sweet, the way they’ve always looked at you.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you insist, shaking your head as his warm hands cover your cheeks. “i just...she’s pretty.” the last two words are squeaky and fall flat, a tiny sigh leaving him as he brings your face in closer and pecks the tip of your nose.

“so are you,” he says, his thumbs caressing your cheeks again as he looks at you. “you’re pretty and you’re mine,” he says, snaking his hand down to tickle at your stomach. you giggle and wriggle against him, your tiny squeals of his name and his deep chuckle settling the sinking feeling in your stomach.

you’re just being insecure, you think, wooyoung had never given you a reason not to trust him.

three weeks later, on your one year anniversary, wooyoung comes down from school and spends the day with you. he took to the same restaurant and rollerskating rink like he did so long ago, when you were shy and reserved and still a little confused as to why he wanted to spend time with you.

but this time was even better than the last, still chaotic and a bit of a mess but some much needed time with your boyfriend. because with his coursework picking up, you haven’t been able to talk with as much during the week. but now you’re back at your house, laid out in your bed with your head on his shoulder as you watch a movie; or at least try to.

because ever since the horror started, his phone hadn’t stopped buzzing. he kept kissing your head in apology, taking it from your bedside table and typing out message after message; you didn’t say anything until he had gone back and forth ten times.

“do you want me to pause it?” you asked, moving your head off of him and scooting over. he looked over after he sent the message, shaking his head before putting his phone face down on the table; you try not to feel uneasy.

“no, love, i’m sorry,” he says, throwing his arm back around you before tugging him in to you. “lisa just had a few questions about an english project due next week.”

you feel yourself grow stiff at the mention of her name, the casual way in which he says it not settling you in the slightest. instead, it makes you remember just how unsettled her presence made you. how something about her words and eyes seemed disingenuous. and perhaps you still think it was your own insecurities but you’ve also never not trusted your instincts before.

“oh.”

he looks over at the tone in your your voice, frowning ever so slightly before pulling you into him. “i’m sorry, babe, i promise i’ll pay attention now,” he says, nuzzling his face into your neck. you smile as his hair starts to tickle your neck, giggling when you feel his lips on your skin before you’re screeching his name when he gets you on your back.

“stop,” you whine playfully, despite the way your arms wrap around his shoulders. he looks at you and smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. you hear the faint double vibration of his phone on your bedside table but you both ignore it, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth as his hand rests on your waist.

“love you, baby,” he hummed lowly when he pulled back, trailing his lips down to your neck before they go farther and farther until your mumbling your cries in the crook of your arm.

and because he loves you, he always understood you didn’t like to drink. you didn’t like the taste of it or the idea of not being in control of your body, settling for a coke or water at any party you went to.

but a week before his semester was over, you drove up to visit and found yourself at another frat party. it was just as packed and loud as it was last time, the slightly overwhelming scent of alcohol and chattering of college kids making you uneasy.

wooyoung and his friend’s made it easier, though, including you in the conversation when prompted and sitting with you as they waited for their turn at beer pong. “are you sure you don’t wanna play, love?” he asked you lowly, knelt between your knees as he looked up at you.

“you know i don’t drink, wooyoung,” you said lowly, cheeks burning because you feel like a stupid little kid here. and he knows you don’t like these things in the first place so why would you wanna play?

“i know but it’s just a game ba-”

“wooyoung! c’mon, i need a team member still,” lisa’s voice whined, smiling at you before her gaze trains on wooyoung. you narrow your eyes slightly, a sinking feeling deep within the pit of your stomach as you watch wooyoung nod his head at her.

“i’ll be back, love, watch how quick i win,” he winks, raising up to place a peck on your lips before snaking over to the table. you watch with a small smile before it falls from your face, looking down to play with your fingers. you wanna play with him but the crowd and environment is too much, coupled in with the fact you’d be experiencing this firsthand in front of a bunch of seasoned college kids who will probably laugh at you.

you look like you don’t belong here and you feel like it too. but wooyoung does, his handsome smile and infectious laugh just naturally bringing people in. an excited squeal leaves lisa when wooyoung’s ball lands right in the cup, his and her hand meeting in a high five that lingers just a little too long.

you’re sitting there for twenty minutes, just watching pathetically as wooyoung and lisa land ball after ball. every time she gets in it, she’ll throw her arms up and her pretty long hair will swirl around gracefully. you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes, taking your phone out to distract yourself.

“hey,” you hear a voice say. your head pops up to see if they’re talking to you, the boy wooyoung introduced to you as yeosang looking down at you. he had described him as sassy and a bit of a blunt asshole but you hadn’t gotten that impression at all. he seemed sweet and kind, a soft-spoken voice with even softer eyes.

“hi. yeosang, right?”

“yeah,” he smiles, taking the seat next to you. there’s a few moments of silence and you look over again when lisa’s squeal pierces your ears. you take a sharp inhale, averting your eyes before you can see her and wooyoung celebrate together again.

“why are you sitting here alone?”

you peak at the boy looking thoughtfully at you and shrug, your lips quirking before you look back down at your hands. “just waiting for wooyoung to be finished,” you tell him. but then you hear someone say “rematch!” and your head snaps over, wooyoung smiling challengingly as he nods his head.

his eyes graze over to you and they turn sympathetic, a frown on his face before he mouths “sorry,” before holding up one finger. you let out a sigh but nod your head, sending him a small smile that drops when his attention is pulled away by lisa.

“you should tell him it bothers you,” you hear yeosang say, looking over at the boy with a wide eyed gaze. he says it so straight forwardly that it causes you to grown nervous, biting your lip before you open your mouth to speak.

“what?”

he raises his eyebrow and you know he’s seeing through your lie. the lie that you’re not all bothered by being here and watching him play with another girl. a girl you’re almost positive has ill-intentions. and now you see where yeosang’s bluntness comes in.

“that him and lisa make you uncomfortable,” yeosang tells you, looking over and seeing them smile at one another in victory. “because you’re worried, aren’t you?”

it’s the first time it’s been verbalized and it makes your stomach squeeze painfully, sadness and anger and disappointment flooding through you. “should i be?” you squeak, since you know he sees you them a lot more than you.

“i don’t know,” he says, the both of you looking over in time to see lisa smack wooyoung’s arm playfully as she throws her head back. “should you be?”

your conversation with yeosang rings your head for the rest of your time you’re there, wooyoung coming over after the eventual third game and taking you in his arms. “i’m so sorry, love, these pussies just wouldn’t accept losing,” he says loudly enough for mingi and another shorter boy to hear.

“it’s okay,” you say softly, begging him with your eyes to get out of here. and he must see it immediately because he takes your hand in his and pulls you up, snaking his arm around your waist tightly. “i’ll make it up to you, i promise,” he hums against your ear, “you wanna leave?”

you nod against him as you smile shyly, pushing yourself further into him. wooyoung says his goodbyes to his friends, the girls you’d been talking to before waving at you and saying they hope to see you the next time you come up. all the girls but lisa, who snaked her way over with a frown on her face.

“you guys are leaving?” she whined, looking over you quickly before switching to wooyoung. “but what if i need other partner?” your boyfriend chuckles at the girl, tightening his hold on you when he feels you stiffen.

“san’s pretty good, i’m just better,” wooyoung says before looking down at you. “little one wants to leave, though.” he says it lightheartedly but it makes your cheeks warm, like he’s talking about you as a little kid.

“oh c’mon, y/n,” lisa says, her cold hand touching your arm playfully. “we were having fun.” you smile despite the rage coursing through you, shrugging your shoulders as you mumble out an excuse that you’re tired.

“ah, right, i always forget you’re just a little high schooler,” she says, her voice snide and mocking like she knows that was one of your biggest insecurities. about you and wooyoung staying together. “you don’t like this kind of stuff, do you?”

“i don’t like my boyfriend ignoring me, no,” you snap, lisa’s eyebrow raising as she looks between you and the boy staring at you in shock; you never snap like that and he hadn’t realized you felt that way.

“yikes,” she mutters, her eyebrows shooting up sarcastically before looking at wooyoung comfortingly. “well i’ll see you guys soon, maybe,” she hums, might as well having said maybe, if you guys are still together come the spring semester.

“what was that?” wooyoung asks when you get outside, your hands intertwined as you walk to his dorm.

“what was what?” you mumble, your eyes trained down on the street in front of you. you hadn’t meant to snap like that but you couldn’t help it, the whole night had been rubbing you the wrong way.

“i wasn’t ignoring you, y/n, i was just preoccupied with the game. i asked you if you wanted to play.”

“when have i ever wanted to play drinking games, wooyoung?” you ask him, turning your head to look at him. “you know parties aren’t my thing.”

“then why’d you say it was okay to go?” he asks, the slightest hint of annoyance in his tone making you flare with anger. is he serious? he’s annoyed right now?

“because you wanted to go,” you say, eyebrows narrowed at him in confusion. “i wasn’t gonna ruin your last weekend here and say we shouldn’t go.”

“well i also don’t wanna fight with you my last weekend here, baby,” he says, smiling softly as his eyes roam over your face. he stops you both of you from walking and brings a hand to your hair, tucking it behind your ear gently. “we got through the first semester with no problems, love, let’s not ruin that, okay? i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you feel ignored.”

you let out a sigh at his voice, hating the way his soft tone and eyes can always make you feel relaxed. your eyes bore into his and he raises a brow, tapping the tip of your nose before leaning down to kiss it. “i’m sorry, babyyy,” he drags out, wrapping his hands around your waist and placing a peck on your neck. “don’t be mad at me.”

“i’m not mad at you,” you sigh out, not being able to help the smile on your face at his whining. and once he feels your body relax, it’s like he knows he’s clear. because he pops up and kisses you on the lips, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek.

“let’s get home now, yeah? i want you sitting on my-”

“wooyoung!” you squeal, your hands flying up to your red cheeks as his loud giggle echoes through the street.

you don’t know when exactly you felt the slight change between you and wooyoung. it might have been during christmas break, those six weeks of what was supposed to be bliss something of a reality shock.

you thought spending everyday with him would be perfect, basking in the way you’d be able to do everything together again: go on dates and watch movies and have sleepovers so you could fall asleep next to him and wake to a kiss on your cheek. but instead, tensions began to form.

it was almost unrecognizable at first, your dates still full of smiles and laughs but always ending short. “i’m sorry baby, my mom needs me to watch my brother,” he’d say, “i gotta wake up early tomorrow, me and the boys are gonna go to the gym in the morning.”

but then when you guys actually were together, he’d seem distracted. absentmindley watching tv or playing games with you, his phone constantly vibrating as it lay face down on the table or bed. you’d ask him about and he always said it was probably seonghwa, jongho and yunho going crazy in the group chat.

then the one night you caught a glimpse of him texting, you hadn’t even meant to. you just leaned over him to grab your glass on the table, pecking his cheek in the process and hearing him chuckle happily. but then your eyes caught the name lisa at the top of the screen and you nearly dropped the drink in your hand.

“who are you texting?” you asked, holding your breath because if he lies, you know your heart’s gonna crumble right here.

“lisa,” he says and, while you’re grateful he doesn’t lie, it doesn’t seem to lessen the blow. “she’s registering late for classes so she was just asking me which ones i’m taking.”

“oh,” you squeak out, bringing the cup to your lips so you don’t blurt out something you can’t take back. you swallow it down as you watch a smirk cross his face, typing out a message before he puts his phone back down.

“you good?” he asks, turning to look at you watching him. you nod your head and place it back on the table, the phone buzzing again.

“do you text a lot?” you blurt out.

you watch his expression soften and he pulls you into him, his arm around your shoulder as he holds you tightly. “baby...” he says.

“what?” you squeak, feeling your cheeks grow warm. you hate that you feel this way, insecurity and doubt in him and your relationship laying heavy on your heart. but you have to imagine if you were texting another boy that wasn’t him, he wouldn’t like it. but you also don’t know, you never put him in the position to feel that way before.

“we’re just friends,” he says and you bite the inside of your cheek so you don’t scream; you hadn’t said anything like that so why is he telling you that? “she only texted me for the schedule, love.”

you look up to meet his gaze and see a frown on his lips, his eyes trailing over every part of your face. “do you trust me?” he then asks suddenly, seeing all of the doubt and hesitation over your face. you immediately nod your head, feeling tears burn the back of your eyes at the idea of starting a fight.

“then why does it seem like you don’t?”

and you don’t think much of this comment at the time, simply telling him all of your concerns about her being pretty and fun at parties and maybe being a better fit for him.

but in retrospect, when you’ll look back at this moment, you’ll realize just how manipulative he was. how this was the moment wooyoung looked you in the face and told you that he didn’t care about any of that, that he loved you and only you and that as long as you were his, he’d never look at another girl.

that he let you think for two more months that your intuition was wrong, that you were just an insecure girl not capable of trusting her perfect boyfriend. but he wasn’t a perfect boyfriend, you were coming to discover, especially when you sat alone in a restaurant near his school for your belated valentine’s day dinner.

he told you to come up that weekend so you could celebrate the holiday, saying just to meet him at a cute little cafe he’d been wanting to take you to. you arrived on time and waited in your car, looking around the area for his familiar face or figure. but after ten minutes, you shrugged it off and decided to get you guys a table.

but you sat there for almost forty minutes now, texts and calls going unanswered by him. workers and other customers were starting to notice you get more anxious, looking at you with sympathy in their gazes like you’d gotten stood up on a first date.

but this was your boyfriend of over a year, for your valentine’s day date, with a last minute gift you made for him weighing down your purse. feeling stupid and embarrassed, you shot up from your seat and charged back out to your car to drive to his dorm.

you walked the familiar path to his room and banged on the door, mingi’s face falling slightly when he sees the expression on your face. “hey, y/n,” he says, his voicer louder than usual. “what are you doing here?”

but sick of being meek and polite all the time, you push your way through and are hit with the stench of the small room courtesy of lisa, wooyoung and san passing a joint as they sit on his bed. four other people are also spread out on mingi’s and the dusty floor, looking up at you and nodding their heads at you; you’ve never seen them before.

wooyoung’s eyes widen the second he sees you, realization swarming in his face before he shoots up from his position.

“oh shit. hey, babe.”

you narrow your eyes at him, looking at the other people and seeing lisa staring right into you before you let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head and turning right around.

“y/n, wait,” wooyoung says, but you’re already out of the room before he can say anything else. angry tears sting your eyes as you stomp down the hall, footsteps behind you following quickly.

“y/n,” your boyfriend’s voice says again, tone begging and desperate for you to stop. but you only walk faster, walk as fast as you can to the door and push it open until the cold hair hits your face.

“y/n,” he says firmly one last time, grabbing you by the arm firmly but gently.

it fills you with so much rage, ripping it from his hold and spinning around to look at him. he has the balls to look sympathetic and upset, like he wasn’t getting high with random people, with lisa, while you were waiting for him on the date he planned.

“what?” you snap, looking at him and narrowing your eyes when he only looks at you taken back. “what wooyoung? what? you wouldn’t stop calling my name and now you don’t have anything to say?”

“i’m sorry,” he breathes out, stepping forward to put his arms around you but you step back and shake your head. hurt crosses his face and you wanna slap it off, thinking he has no right to be upset right now.

“why were you- i was waiting for you,” you tell him bluntly, voice strong despite how weak and defeated you feel. you know things have been rocky these past few months, missing each other’s phone calls and elapsed silences when you do see each other but missing a date?

“i know, baby, and i’m so sorry but i got distracted and didn’t notice the time and-”

“you’re the one who planned it wooyoung!” you yelp, “you got me excited thinking you actually wanted to see me and you left me waiting there for forty minutes.”

“i did wanna see you,” he says, stepping forward and grabbing you before you can move again. “i do wanna see you. i’m sorry. mingi’s friend’s came and we lost track of time.”

you press your lips into a tight line, wanting so badly to scream at him some more. these are all lousy excuses, they sound like bullshit to your and probably his own ears. if he didn’t wanna hang out with you, he could’ve just told you and saved you the-

his arms wrapping around you in a hug cause your thoughts to stop, arms shooting up as you consider pushing him away. but then his face falls into the crook of your neck and he tightens his hold on you, his mumbles of apologies and sweet nothings softening you slightly.

“why were you smoking?” you ask. you didn’t have a problem with him drinking or smoking, you just had no idea he did that now. you feel like you don’t know anything about him anymore.

“san brought it,” he says, pulling back and bringing his hand to your face. he caresses your cheek gently and a tiny frown covers his mouth, feeling a pang of guilt and hurt in his heart. “i really am sorry, love. i didn’t mean to forget and i’ve been so excited to see you. the time just got away from me.”

you purse your lips to the side in contemplation, looking up at him and shaking your head when, after a few silent moments, he smiles cutely at you. “i got you gift, too.”

you shake your head as you look at him, allowing yourself to move closer to him as he pulls you into his body. you’ve missed being like this with him, accepting the comfort and warmth and happiness he brings you.

“i did too,” you tell him, “even though i should make you wait.”

you know a pout is on his face before the whine leaves him, squeezing at your ticklish sides and making you spring away from him. “not fair!” you yelp. and then the teasing, borderline sadistic smile he gives you causes you to back up even more, speeding off in the direction of your car as he follows behind you.

you struggle to walk with his arms wrapped around your waist, the both of you giggling as you fumble to your car. a small voice in the back of your head is telling him you let him off too easy, that you’re stupid to not have asked more questions and to listen to the pit in your stomach telling you something’s wrong.

but you’re happy about the fact that you guys are good right now, that he’s smiling over at you with the softness is his eyes that remind you so much of the time you guys first started dating.

when you heard one monday that school would be closed on friday for testing, you immediately got the idea to surprise your boyfriend. you hadn’t been able to go up last week due to a family party and had really missed seeing him, his face on the camera of your phone not being enough to dull the ache in your chest.

so when friday morning came, so did your overwhelming excitement. you jumped in your car and drove to his college happily, knowing he didn’t have class until later in the day and hoping you’d be able to just lay in his arms for a few peaceful hours.

you stopped to get two coffees before you pulled into the parking lot, making your way into his building and down to his dorm. you do your best to knock on the door with your hip, surprised when it actually pushes open slightly. you hum happily, securing the two coffee cups in your hand before you open the door further.

“surprise!” you say teasingly, the happy smile on your face falling off immediately. because the surprise was actually for you, a shirtless lisa straddling your boyfriend’s lap as they kiss so naturally it makes you wanna puke.

you almost don’t believe what you’re looking at, the coffees falling from your hands and splattering on the floor. this isn’t real, there’s no way he would do that. he wouldn’t cheat on you, that’s not what your boyfriend wooyoung would ever do.

but in the way your heart is pounding rapidly and threatening to break, the way lisa’s head snaps away from wooyoung’s and looks at you in shock, your boyfriend’s eyes widening before he pushes lisa off to the side, you know he did it. he very well had lied and cheated and completely betrayed you.

“y/n, it’s-”

“not what i think?” you ask, voice eerily calm and even despite the chaos inside your body.

“it’s actually exactly what you think,” lisa’s snide voice says and the hatred that courses through you, you don’t think you’ve ever felt before. you wish you hadn’t dropped the coffees so you could’ve thrown it in her smug face.

“shut the fuck up, lisa,” wooyoung’s voice says, deep and low with an uncharacteristic growl in it before he makes his way over to you; it’s such a familiar scene, him moving toward you as you back away. except this time, you know you’re not forgiving him and the pain in your chest is ten time worse.

“baby, i-”

“don’t call me that,” you say, voice raising but still strong and even as you continue to walk backwards.

“okay, okay, just let me explain-”

“it doesn’t matter,” you say, shaking your head as you look at him with tears building in your eyes. you don’t wanna cry and scream and give the smirking girl looking at you the satisfaction of watching you have a breakdown. but you also can’t control the tears, watching him look at you with sadness and sympathy swarming in his eyes.

you thought you knew them so well and yet, he’d been lying to you the whole fucking time.

“it does, y/n, i have to tell you-”

“how long?” you ask. you don’t know why you ask, you don’t wanna know. but you can’t help it, the kiss looked far too natural and familiar to be something that happened in the heat of the moment.

“baby-”

and you can’t even help it when you stomp toward him and slap him across the face, your palm stinging as you his head snaps to the side. “i said to not fucking call me that,” you scream, wishing you could slap and punch and hit him over and over again for what he’s put you through these past few months. “now tell me. how long.”

and the coward that he is, with a red slap mark on his cheek, he shakes his head and looks at the coffee covered floor. you debate kicking him in the shin, just because you can and just because you have so many emotions swirling in you, before lisa’s voice pierces the air again.

“last day before christmas break,” she tells you, her shirt back on as she lays back in his bed like she belongs there. “i kissed him and he kissed me back.” you look at her and are half tempted to go and slap her as well, a humorless laugh leaving you. it sounds manic and unhinged, like you have two minutes before you completely absorb what’s happening and have a breakdown, but you can’t stop yourself from shaking your head.

“why do you sound so proud?” you ask her, voice shaking and threatening to break. “you knew he was with me. you knew he had a girlfriend. why did you always-” your voice breaks and you have to stop talking, holding in the tears and screams wanting to leave you so badly.

“i told you,” she says, cocking her head to the side as she looks at you. “i was hoping to find a boyfriend.”

“you didn’t find one,” wooyoung snaps, looking over her with disgust and rage in his eyes. “we were only-”

“hooking up?” lisa says, looking at him with a smirk before a melodic laugh leaves her mouth. “yeah, that sounds a lot better for your case, woo.” her eyes travel back to yours and she can only shrug her shoulders carelessly. “sorry but i saw him and wanted him. wish i had a better explanation for you.”

you bite the inside of your cheek and you think you’re probably drawing blood but you only nod your head, looking between her and wooyoung one last time. “well you have him now,” you say quietly, voice teary and breaking but it doesn’t even matter anymore. “enjoy.”

and like the dramatic exit any girl makes after she finds out she’s being cheated on, you turn around and slam the door before walking back outside. you feel the wet tears streaming down your face but only sniffle, wiping at your cheeks before the cold air finally hits them.

and that’s when you allow yourself to let out the first whimper, shaking your head as the tears start flowing because you can’t believe that just happened. you knew things had been rough and you knew you didn’t trust her so it’s not even like you can say you were surprised that she had gotten to him.

but that’s exactly the point. she had gotten to him, it was his duty to tell her to leave him alone and to stop talking to him and that he had a girlfriend he claimed to love. but now you have to get yourself together and drive home and wipe away every reminder in your room of-

“y/n, please,” you hear wooyoung say, his dejected form standing just outside the dorm building. you turn and his face crumbles when he sees you’re crying but really what the fuck does he expect? “please, please hear me out and if you never wanna see me again-”

“i already know i never wanna see you again,” you say, your voice back to being quiet and timid because you can’t take crying. you hate it and you hate that he did this. “so just go back inside, wooyoung.”

“no. not until you hear me out.”

and that sends another whole wave of emotions through you, mostly anger and rage as you stomp toward him and push him backward with all the strength you could muster.

“go fuck yourself, i don’t have to hear out anything from you. you’ve been cheating on me wooyoung. for three months. do you not fucking realize what you’ve done?”

“of course i do, y/n,” he says and you see tears welling up in his eyes now but you can’t find yourself to care. “i knew it was a mistake and i tried to break it off so many times but then-”

“you knew how i felt,” you say and now your voice holds no anger or strength. it’s just purely devastated and broken and shaky. “you knew i didn’t trust her and that i was insecure and you just kept telling me i never had anything to-” a sob leaves your mouth and you shake your head, backing away from him.

he already knows this, he heard this from you and lived with it for all of these months. he knew it before he started and while he did it, telling you that you trusted and loved each other, that you were his and he was yours and everything was gonna be okay.

“you’re such a fucking asshole,” you cry and a tear rolls down his cheek as he steps closer to you. “y/n.”

“i’m never gonna trust anyone ever again. do you fucking realize that, wooyoung?” you cry, his voice ringing in your head from january, when now you know he had already been with her, asking why you didn’t trust him. “you were with her and turned it around on me and asked why i didn’t trust you.”

he only starts to cry more as you piece together his lies and disgusting behavior, his gut wrenching and heart pounding the more this plays out.

“i’m sorry,” he says shakily, moving closer to you and taking your hands in his. “i’m sorry, y/n. please. please forgive me just this once and i promise i’ll-”

“you’re not seriously doing this right now,” you snap, eyes shooting up to his tearful ones and looking at him in outrage.

“i need you, baby, i love you and i fucked up but please, you can’t-”

“get away from me,” you say, attempting to rip your hands from his grasp. but he only tightens them and brings you closer to him.

“if you just listen to me, maybe you’ll-”

“stop,” you say, struggling to pull your hands free. you need to get away from him. you can’t hear him sound this pathetic and sad and begging.

“no. i need you to fucking hear me out and-”

“let go of me,” you say through clenched teeth, hot wet tears burning your eyes and running down your face; he’s making this a lot more dramatic and heartbreaking than it already is. but then he pulls you into him and wraps you in a hug and you’re so close to kneeing him between the legs.

his buries his head in the crook of your neck and holds you like his life depends on it, like his life just crashed down as he realized what the fuck he’s been doing for these past few months.

but you’ve realized for these past few months that things were different, that an awful strain was happening between you two and there was gonna be a sad ending no matter what.

so you push him away again with all the strength you have left and take a few steps backwards. “you lied to me, wooyoung. you lied to me and betrayed my trust and cheated on me with someone i told you i didn’t trust.”

“y/n, i know but-”

“i never wanna see you again. or talk to you again. do you understand me?”

“y/n...” tears are in his eyes and streaming down his cheeks and you’ve never seen him look so broken and fucked up before. but you’ve never felt this broken and fucked up before either, feeling like you’re about to collapse from the emotional havoc within you.

“we’re done, wooyoung,” you say, with a tone of finality and strength you can’t believe you have right now. but you also have to get one more dig in because you think you have the right to after all of this. “go back to lisa, now.”

you walk to your car and feel relieved when he doesn’t follow you, slamming your car door and locking it before you allow yourself to really cry. sobbing uncontrollably into your hands, to the point where it’s hard to breathe and you don’t think you’re ever gonna remember how to breathe again.

a tapping at your window has you jumping, getting ready to take off in reverse if it’s wooyoung begging for a second chance. but your teary eyes widen when you see his roommate mingi, looking at you with sad eyes. you swallow down the lump in your throat and get out of the car hesitantly, looking around to see if wooyoung was lurking.

you don’t say anything when you get out but mingi doesn’t say anything either. he just takes in your red eyes and teary, puffy face as the sounds of your sobs ring in his head over and over. sobs he feels at fault for, too.

“you found out?”

and even though you were already so broken and upset, those words somehow completely shatter you. your head snaps up and mingi’s face turns even more guilty and sad. you thought you and mingi were friends, always hanging out in the dorm with wooyoung and really coming to like the banter you three had.

but that question really makes it seem as if...

“you knew?”

he bites at his lip and doesn’t make a move, but the look in his eyes gives you all the confirmation you need. the way they look at you so apologetically and with pity, before they start roaming ever part of your face but your eyes.

another choked, broken laugh leaves your mouth and you just turn around to get back in your car. but mingi’s big hand takes the top of the door and stops it, his deep “wait,” causing you to snap around.

“why?” you snap, “you fucking knew and you didn’t tell me, mingi!”

“he’s one of my best friends and my roommate, y/n, what i was supposed to-”

“and who am i?” you scream, because you’ve taken just about all you can today. “i thought we were friends too, mingi.” his soft, sympathetic eyes roam over your face and his giant frame deflates, biting down on his lower lip hesitantly.

“i only found out last month,” he tells you honestly, “and he told me he was gonna stop.”

“oh, so what, he cheats on me in secret for a few months and everyone keeps me in the dark like a fucking idiot?”

mingi looks down at hearing the brokenness and anger in your voice, his lack of a response or justification the only appropriate thing about this moment. because it doesn’t matter, none of this matters anymore and you just wanna drive home and forget about all of this.

“it doesn’t even matter, mingi,” you say, taking his hand off your car door before dropping it in the air. “it’s over now. we’re done and they can be happy now.”

“he loves you, y/n,” the boy says quietly, like that’s supposed to make you feel better and run back into wooyoung’s arms. but you only laugh and shake your head, closing the door in his face before starting up your car.

because if that’s love, you hope to never be loved again. it made you go against your intuition and doubt yourself and allowed you to stay with someone who just ended up lying to you and hurting you.

(part 2)

#legit some emo shit #sorry luvs #hehe #anyway #wooyoungs tattoo!!#wooyoung #wooyoung angst #ateez #ateez angst #request #lisa is also my fav so pls dont yell at me

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grigori77 · 4 years ago

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2020 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 2)

20. ONWARD – Disney and Pixar’s best digitally animated family feature of 2020 (beating the admittedly impressive Soul to the punch) clearly has a love of fantasy roleplay games like Dungeons & Dragons, its quirky modern-day AU take populated by fantastical races and creatures seemingly tailor-made for the geek crowd … needless to say, me and many of my friends absolutely loved it. That doesn’t mean that the classic Disney ideals of love, family and believing in yourself have been side-lined in favour of fan-service – this is as heartfelt, affecting and tearful as their previous standouts, albeit with plenty of literal magic added to the metaphorical kind. The central premise is a clever one – once upon a time, magic was commonplace, but over the years technology came along to make life easier, so that in the present day the various races (elves, centaurs, fauns, pixies, goblins and trolls among others) get along fine without it. Then timid elf Ian Lightfoot (Tom Holland) receives a wizard’s staff for his sixteenth birthday, a bequeathed gift from his father, who died before he was born, with instructions for a spell that could bring him back to life for one whole day. Encouraged by his brash, over-confident wannabe adventurer elder brother Barley (Chris Pratt), Ian tries it out, only for the spell to backfire, leaving them with the animated bottom half of their father and just 24 hours to find a means to restore the rest of him before time runs out. Cue an “epic quest” … needless to say, this is another top-notch offering from the original masters of the craft, a fun, affecting and thoroughly infectious family-friendly romp with a winning sense of humour and inspired, flawless world-building. Holland and Pratt are both fantastic, their instantly believable, ill-at-ease little/big brother chemistry effortlessly driving the story through its ingenious paces, and the ensuing emotional fireworks are hilarious and heart-breaking in equal measure, while there’s typically excellent support from Julia Louis-Dreyfus (Elaine from Seinfeld) as Ian and Barley’s put-upon but supportive mum, Laurel, Octavia Spencer as once-mighty adventurer-turned-restaurateur “Corey” the Manticore and Mel Rodriguez (Getting On, The Last Man On Earth) as overbearing centaur cop (and Laurel’s new boyfriend) Colt Bronco. The film marks the sophomore feature gig for Dan Scanlon, who debuted with 2013’s sequel Monsters University, and while that was enjoyable enough I ultimately found it non-essential – no such verdict can be levelled against THIS film, the writer-director delivering magnificently in all categories, while the animation team have outdone themselves in every scene, from the exquisite environments and character/creature designs to some fantastic (and frequently delightfully bonkers) set-pieces, while there’s a veritable riot of brilliant RPG in-jokes to delight geekier viewers (gelatinous cube! XD). Massive, unadulterated fun, frequently hilarious and absolutely BURSTING with Disney’s trademark heart, this was ALMOST my animated feature of the year. More on that later …

19. THE GENTLEMEN – Guy Ritchie’s been having a rough time with his last few movies (The Man From UNCLE didn’t do too bad but it wasn’t exactly a hit and was largely overlooked or simply ignored, while intended franchise-starter King Arthur: Legend of the Sword was largely derided and suffered badly on release, dying a quick death financially – it’s a shame on both counts, because I really liked them), so it’s nice to see him having some proper success with his latest, even if he has basically reverted to type to do it. Still, when his newest London gangster flick is THIS GOOD it seems churlish to quibble – this really is what he does best, bringing together a collection of colourful geezers and shaking up their status quo, then standing back and letting us enjoy the bloody, expletive-riddled results. This particularly motley crew is another winning selection, led by Matthew McConaughey as ruthlessly successful cannabis baron Mickey Pearson, who’s looking to retire from the game by selling off his massive and highly lucrative enterprise for a most tidy sum (some $400,000,000 to be precise) to up-and-coming fellow American ex-pat Matthew Berger (Succession’s Jeremy Strong, oozing sleazy charm), only for local Chinese triad Dry Eye (Crazy Rich Asians’ Henry Golding, chewing the scenery with enthusiasm) to start throwing spanners into the works with the intention of nabbing the deal for himself for a significant discount. Needless to say Mickey’s not about to let that happen … McConaughey is ON FIRE here, the best he’s been since Dallas Buyers Club in my opinion, clearly having great fun sinking his teeth into this rich character and Ritchie’s typically sparkling, razor-witted dialogue, and he’s ably supported by a quality ensemble cast, particularly co-star Charlie Hunnam as Mickey’s ice-cold, steel-nerved right-hand-man Raymond Smith, Downton Abbey’s Michelle Dockery as his classy, strong-willed wife Rosalind, Colin Farrell as a wise-cracking, quietly exasperated MMA trainer and small-time hood simply known as the Coach (who gets many of the film’s best lines), and, most notably, Hugh Grant as the film’s nominal narrator, thoroughly morally bankrupt private investigator Fletcher, who consistently steals the film. This is Guy Ritchie at his very best – a twisty rug-puller of a plot that constantly leaves you guessing, brilliantly observed and richly drawn characters you can’t help loving in spite of the fact there’s not a single hero among them, a deliciously unapologetic, politically incorrect sense of humour and a killer soundtrack. Getting the cinematic year off to a phenomenal start, it’s EASILY Ritchie’s best film since Sherlock Holmes, and a strong call-back to the heady days of Snatch (STILL my favourite) and Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels. Here’s hoping he’s on a roll again, eh?

18. SPONTANEOUS – one of the year’s biggest under-the-radar surprise hits for me was one which I actually might not have caught if things had been a little more normal and ordered. Thankfully with all the lockdown and cinematic shutdown bollocks going on, this fantastically subversive and deeply satirical indie teen comedy horror came along at the perfect time, and I completely flipped out over it. Now those who know me know I don’t tend to gravitate towards teen cinema, but like all those other exceptions I’ve loved over the years, this one had a brilliantly compulsive hook I just couldn’t turn down – small-town high-schooler Mara (Knives Out and Netflix’ Cursed’s Katherine Langford) is your typical cool outsider kid, smart, snarky and just putting up with the scene until she can graduate and get as far away as possible … until one day in her senior year one of her classmates just inexplicably explodes. Like her peers, she’s shocked and she mourns, then starts to move on … until it happens again. As the death toll among the senior class begins to mount, it becomes clear something weird is going on, but Mara has other things on her mind because the crisis has, for her, had an unexpected benefit – without it she wouldn’t have fallen in love with like-minded oddball new kid Dylan (Lean On Pete and Words On Bathroom Walls’ Charlie Plummer). The future’s looking bright, but only if they can both live to see it … this is a wickedly intelligent film, powered by a skilfully executed script and a wonderfully likeable young cast who consistently steer their characters around the potential cliched pitfalls of this kind of cinema, while debuting writer-director Brian Duffield (already a rising star thanks to scripts for Underwater, The Babysitter and blacklist darling Jane Got a Gun among others) show he’s got as much talent and flair for crafting truly inspired cinema as he has for thinking it up in the first place, delivering some impressively offbeat set-pieces and several neat twists you frequently don’t see coming ahead of time. Langford and Plummer as a sassy, spicy pair who are easy to root for without ever getting cloying or sweet, while there’s glowing support from the likes of Hayley Law (Rioverdale, Altered Carbon, The New Romantic) as Mara’s best friend Tess, Piper Perabo and Transparent’s Rob Huebel as her increasingly concerned parents, and Insecure’s Yvonne Orji as Agent Rosetti, the beleaguered government employee sent to spearhead the investigation into exactly what’s happening to these kids. Quirky, offbeat and endlessly inventive, this is one of those interesting instances where I’m glad they pushed the horror elements into the background so we could concentrate on the comedy, but more importantly these wonderfully well-realised and vital characters – there are some skilfully executed shocks, but far more deep belly laughs, and there’s bucketloads of heart to eclipse the gore. Another winning debut from a talent I intend to watch with great interest in the future.

17. HAMILTON – arriving just as Black Lives Matter reached fever-pitch levels, this feature presentation of the runaway Broadway musical smash-hit could not have been better timed. Shot over three nights during the show’s 2016 run with the original cast and cut together with specially created “setup shots”, it’s an immersive experience that at once puts you right in amongst the audience (at times almost a character themselves, never seen but DEFINITELY heard) but also lets you experience the action up close. And what action – it’s an incredible show, a thoroughly fascinating piece of work that reads like something very staid and proper on paper (an all-encompassing biographical account of the life and times of American Founding Father Alexander Hamilton) but, in execution, becomes something very different and EXTREMELY vital. The execution certainly couldn’t be further from the usual period biopic fare this kind of historical subject matter usually gets (although in the face of recent high quality revisionist takes like Marie Antoinette, The Great and Tesla it’s not SO surprising), while the cast is not at all what you’d expect – with very few notable exceptions the cast is almost entirely people of colour, despite the fact that the real life individuals they’re playing were all very white indeed. Every single one of them is also an absolute revelation – the show’s writer-composer Lin-Manuel Miranda (already riding high on the success of In the Heights) carries the central role of Hamilton with effortless charm and raw star power, Leslie Odom Jr. (Smash, Murder On the Orient Express) is duplicitously complex as his constant nemesis Aaron Burr, Christopher Jackson (In the Heights, Moana, Bull) oozes integrity and nobility as his mentor and friend George Washington, Phillipa Soo is sweet and classy as his wife Eliza while Renée Elise Goldsberry (The Immortal Life of Henrietta Jacks, Altered Carbon) is fiery and statuesque as her sister Angelica Schuyler (the one who got away), and Jonathan Groff (Mindhunter) consistently steals every scene he’s in as fiendish yet childish fan favourite King George III, but the show (and the film) ultimately belongs to veritable powerhouse Daveed Diggs (Blindspotting, The Good Lord Bird) in a spectacular duel role, starting subtly but gaining scene-stealing momentum as French Revolutionary Gilbert du Motier, the Marquis de Lafayette, before EXPLODING onto the stage in the second half as indomitable third American President Thomas Jefferson. Not having seen the stage show, I was taken completely by surprise by this, revelling in its revisionist genius and offbeat, quirky hip-hop charm, spellbound by the skilful ease with which is takes the sometimes quite dull historical fact and skews it into something consistently entertaining and absorbing, transported by the catchy earworm musical numbers and thoroughly tickled by the delightfully cheeky sense of humour strung throughout (at least when I wasn’t having my heart broken by moments of raw dramatic power). Altogether it’s a pretty unique cinematic experience I wish I could have actually gotten to see on the big screen, and one I’ve consistently recommended to all my friends, even the ones who don’t usually like musicals. As far as I’m concerned it doesn’t need a proper Les Misérables style screen adaptation – this is about as perfect a presentation as the show could possibly hope for.

16. SPUTNIK – summer’s horror highlight (despite SERIOUSLY tough competition) was a guaranteed sleeper hit that I almost missed entirely, stumbling across the trailer one day on YouTube and getting bowled over by its potential, prompting me to hunt it down by any means necessary. The feature debut of Russian director Egor Abramenko, this first contact sci-fi chiller is about as far from E.T. as it’s possible to get, sharing some of the same DNA as Carpenter’s The Thing but proudly carving its own path with consummate skill and definitely signalling great things to come from its brand new helmer and relative unknown screenwriters Oleg Malovichko and Andrei Zolotarev. Oksana Akinshina (probably best known in the West for her powerful climactic cameo in The Bourne Supremacy) is the beating heart of the film as neurophysiologist Tatyana Yuryevna Klimova, brought in to aid in the investigation in the Russian wilderness circa 1983 after an orbital research mission goes horribly wrong. One of the cosmonauts dies horribly, while the other, Konstantin (The Duelist’s Pyotr Fyodorov) seems unharmed, but it quickly becomes clear that he’s now the host for something decidedly extraterrestrial and potentially terrifying, and as Tatyana becomes more deeply embroiled in her assignment she comes to realise that her superiors, particularly mysterious Red Army project leader Colonel Semiradov (The PyraMMMid’s Fyodor Bondarchuk), have far more insidious plans for Konstantin and his new “friend” than she could ever imagine. This is about as dark, intense and nightmarish as this particular sub-genre gets, a magnificently icky body horror that slowly builds its tension as we’re gradually exposed to the various truths and the awful gravity of the situation slowly reveals itself, punctuated by skilfully executed shocks and some particularly horrifying moments when the evils inflicted by the humans in charge prove far worse than anything the alien can do, while the ridiculously talented writers have a field day pulling the rug out from under us again and again, never going for the obvious twist and keeping us guessing right to the devastating ending, while the beautifully crafted digital creature effects are nothing short of astonishing and thoroughly creepy. Akinshina dominates the film with her unbridled grace, vulnerability and integrity, the relationship that develops between Tatyana and Konstantin (Fyodorov delivering a beautifully understated turn belying deep inner turmoil) feeling realistically earned as it goes from tentatively wary to tragically bittersweet, while Bondarchuk invests the Colonel with a nuanced air of tarnished authority and restrained brutality that made him one of my top screen villains for the year. One of 2020’s great sleeper hits, I can’t speak of this film highly enough – it’s a genuine revelation, an instant classic for whom I’ll sing its praises for years to come, and I wish enormous future success to all the creative talents involved.

15. THE INVISIBLE MAN – looks like third time’s a charm for Leigh Whannell, writer-director of my ALMOST horror movie of the year (more on that later) – while he’s had immense success as a horror writer over the years (co-creator of both the Saw and Insidious franchises), as a director his first two features haven’t exactly set the world alight, with debut Insidious: Chapter III garnering similar takes to the rest of the series but ultimately turning out to be a bit of a damp squib quality-wise, while his second feature Upgrade was a stone-cold masterpiece that was (rightly) EXTREMELY well received critically, but ultimately snuck in under the radar and has remained a stubbornly hidden gem since. No such problems with his third feature, though – his latest collaboration with producer Jason Blum and the insanely lucrative Blumhouse Pictures has proven a massive hit both financially AND with reviewers, and deservedly so. Having given up on trying to create a shared cinematic universe inhabited by their classic monsters, Universal resolved to concentrate on standalones to showcase their elite properties, and their first try is a rousing success, Whannell bringing HG Wells’ dark and devious human monster smack into the 21st Century as only he can. The result is a surprisingly subtle piece of work, much more a lethally precise exercise in cinematic sleight of hand and extraordinary acting than flashy visual effects, strictly adhering to the Blumhouse credo of maximum returns for minimum bucks as the story is stripped down to its bare essentials and allowed to play out without any unnecessary weight. The Handmaid’s Tale’s Elizabeth Moss once again confirms what a masterful actress she is as she brings all her performing weapons to bear in the role of Cecelia “Cee” Kass, the cloistered wife of affluent but monstrously abusive optics pioneer Aidan Griffin (Netflix’ The Haunting of Hill House’s Oliver Jackson-Cohen), who escapes his clutches in the furiously tense opening sequence and goes to ground with the help of her closest childhood friend, San Francisco cop James Lanier (Leverage’s Aldis Hodge) and his teenage daughter Sydney (A Wrinkle in Time’s Storm Reid). Two weeks later, Aidan commits suicide, leaving Cee with a fortune to start her life over (with the proviso that she’s never ruled mentally incompetent), but as she tries to find her way in the world again little things start going wrong for her, and she begins to question if there might be something insidious going on. As her nerves start to unravel, she begins to suspect that Aidan is still alive, still very much in her life, fiendishly toying with her and her friends, but no-one can see him. Whannell plays her paranoia up for all it’s worth, skilfully teasing out the scares so that, just like her friends, we begin to wonder if it might all be in her head after all, before a spectacular mid-movie reveal throws the switch into high gear and the true threat becomes clear. The lion’s share of the film’s immense success must of course go to Moss – her performance is BEYOND a revelation, a blistering career best that totally powers the whole enterprise, and it goes without saying that she’s the best thing in this. Even so, she has sterling support from Hodge and Reid, as well as Love Child’s Harriet Dyer as Cee’s estranged big sister Emily and Wonderland’s Michael Dorman as Adrian’s slimy, spineless lawyer brother Tom, and, while he doesn’t have much actual (ahem) “screen time”, Jackson-Cohen delivers a fantastically icy, subtly malevolent turn which casts a large “shadow” over the film. This is one of my very favourite Blumhouse films, a pitch-perfect psychological chiller that keeps the tension cranked up unbearably tight and never lets go, Whannell once again displaying uncanny skill with expert jump-scares, knuckle-whitening chills and a truly astounding standout set-piece that easily goes down as one of the top action sequences of 2020. Undoubtedly the best version of Wells’ story to date, this goes a long way in repairing the damage of Universal’s abortive “Dark Universe” efforts, as well as showcasing a filmmaking master at the very height of his talents.

14. EXTRACTION – the Coronavirus certainly has threw a massive spanner in the works of the year’s cinematic calendar – among many other casualties to the blockbuster shunt, the latest (and most long-awaited) MCU movie, Black Widow, should have opened to further record-breaking box office success at the end of spring, but instead the theatres were all closed and virtually all the heavyweights were pushed back or shelved indefinitely. Thank God, then, for the streaming services, particularly Hulu, Amazon and Netflix, the latter of which provided a perfect movie for us to see through the key transition into the summer blockbuster season, an explosively flashy big budget action thriller ushered in by MCU alumni the Russo Brothers (who produced and co-wrote this adaptation of Ciudad, a graphic novel that Joe Russo co-created with Ande Parks and Fernando Leon Gonzalez) and barely able to contain the sheer star-power wattage of its lead, Thor himself. Chris Hemsworth plays Tyler Rake, a former Australian SAS operative who hires out his services to an extraction operation under the command of mercenary Nik Khan (The Patience Stone’s Golshifteh Farahani), brought in to liberate Ovi Mahajan (Rudhraksh Jaiswal in his first major role), the pre-teen son of incarcerated Indian crime lord Ovi Sr. (Pankaj Tripathi), who has been abducted by Bangladeshi rival Amir Asif (Priyanshu Painyuli). The rescue itself goes perfectly, but when the time comes for the hand-off the team is double-crossed and Tyler is left stranded in the middle of Dhaka with no choice but to keep Ovi alive as every corrupt cop and street gang in the city closes in around them. This is the feature debut of Sam Hargrave, the latest stuntman to try his hand at directing, so he certainly knows his way around an action set-piece, and the result is a thoroughly breathless adrenaline rush of a film, bursting at the seams with spectacular fights, gun battles and car chases, dominated by a stunning sustained sequence that plays out in one long shot, guaranteed to leave jaws lying on the floor. Not that there should be any surprise – Hargrave cut his teeth as a stunt coordinator for the Russos on Captain America: Civil War and their Avengers films. That said, he displays strong talent for the quieter disciplines of filmmaking too, delivering quality character development and drawing out consistently noteworthy performances from his cast. Of course, Hemsworth can do the action stuff in his sleep, but there’s a lot more to Tyler than just his muscle, the MCU veteran investing him with real wounded vulnerability and a tragic fatalism which colours every scene, while Jaiswal is exceptional throughout, showing plenty of promise for the future, and there’s strong support from Farahani and Painyuli, as well as Stranger Things’ David Harbour as world-weary retired merc Gaspard, and a particularly impressive, muscular turn from Randeep Hooda (Once Upon a Time in Mumbai) as Saju, a former Para and Ovi’s bodyguard, who’s determined to take possession of the boy himself, even if he has to go through Tyler to get him. This is action cinema that really deserves to be seen on the big screen – I watched it twice in a week and would happily have paid for two trips to the cinema for it if I could have. As we looked down the barrel of a summer season largely devoid of blockbuster fare, I couldn’t recommend this enough. Thank the gods for Netflix …

13. THE TRIAL OF THE CHICAGO 7 – although it’s definitely a film that really benefitted enormously from releasing on Netflix during the various lockdowns, this was one of the blessed few I actually got to see during one of the UK’s frustratingly rare lulls when cinemas were actually OPEN. Rather perversely it therefore became one of my favourite cinematic experiences of 2020, but then I’m just as much a fan of well-made cerebral films as I am of the big, immersive blockbuster EXPERIENCES, so this probably still would have been a standout in a normal year. Certainly if this was a purely CRITICAL list for the year this probably would have placed high in the Top Ten … Aaron Sorkin is a writer whose work I have ardently admired ever since he went from esteemed playwright to in-demand talent for both the big screen AND the small with A Few Good Men, and TTOTC7 is just another in a long line of consistently impressive, flawlessly written works rife with addictive quickfire dialogue, beautifully observed characters and rewardingly propulsive narrative storytelling (therefore resting comfortably amongst the well-respected likes of The West Wing, Charlie Wilson’s War, Moneyball and The Social Network). It also marks his second feature as a director (after fascinating and incendiary debut Molly’s Game), and once again he’s gone for true story over fiction, tackling the still controversial subject of the infamous 1968 trial of the “ringleaders” of the infamous riots which marred Chicago’s Diplomatic National Convention five months earlier, in which thousands of hippies and college students protesting the Vietnam War clashed with police. Spurred on by the newly-instated Presidential Administration of Richard Nixon to make some examples, hungry up-and-coming prosecutor Richard Schultz (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is confident in his case, while the Seven – who include respected and astute student activist Tom Hayden (Eddie Redmayne) and confrontational counterculture firebrands Abbie Hoffman (Sacha Baron Cohen) and Jerry Rubin (Succession’s Jeremy Strong) – are the clear underdogs. They’re a divided bunch (particularly Hayden and Hoffman, who never mince their words about what little regard they hold for each other), and they’re up against the combined might of the U.S. Government, while all they have on their side is pro-bono lawyer and civil rights activist William Kunstler (Mark Rylance), who’s sharp, driven and thoroughly committed to the cause but clearly massively outmatched … not to mention the fact that the judge presiding over the case is Julius Hoffman (Frank Langella), a fierce and uncompromising conservative who’s clearly 100% on the Administration’s side, and who might in fact be stark raving mad (he also frequently goes to great lengths to make it clear to all concerned that he is NOT related to Abbie). Much as we’ve come to expect from Sorkin, this is cinema of grand ideals and strong characters, not big spectacle and hard action, and all the better for it – he’s proved time and again that he’s one of the very best creative minds in Hollywood when it comes to intelligent, thought-provoking and engrossing thinking-man’s entertainment, and this is pure par for the course, keeping us glued to the screen from the skilfully-executed whirlwind introductory montage to the powerfully cathartic climax, and every varied and brilliant scene in-between. This is heady stuff, focusing on what’s still an extremely thorny issue made all the more urgently relevant and timely given what was (and still is) going on in American politics at the time, and everyone involved here was clearly fully committed to making the film as palpable, powerful and resonant as possible for the viewer, no matter their nationality or political inclination. Also typical for a Sorkin film, the cast are exceptional, everyone clearly having the wildest time getting their teeth into their finely-drawn characters and that magnificent dialogue – Redmayne and Baron Cohen are compellingly complimentary intellectual antagonists given their radically different approaches and their roles’ polar opposite energies, while Rylance delivers another pitch-perfect, simply ASTOUNDING performance that once again marks him as one of the very best actors of his generation, and there are particularly meaty turns from Strong, Langella, Aquaman’s Yahya Abdul-Mateen II (as besieged Black Panther Bobby Seale) and a potent late appearance from Michael Keaton that sear themselves into the memory long after viewing. Altogether then, this is a phenomenal film which deserves to be seen no matter the format, a thought-provoking and undeniably IMPORTANT masterwork from a master cinematic storyteller that says as much about the world we live in now as the decidedly turbulent times it portrays …

12. GREYHOUND – when the cinemas closed back in March, the fate of many of the major summer blockbusters we’d been looking forward to was thrown into terrible doubt. Some were pushed back to more amenable dates in the autumn or winter (which even then ultimately proved frustratingly ambitious), others knocked back a whole year to fill summer slots for 2021, but more than a few simply dropped off the radar entirely with the terrible words “postponed until further notice” stamped on them, and I lamented them all, this one in particular. It hung in there longer than some, stubbornly holding onto its June release slot for as long as possible, but eventually it gave up the ghost too … but thanks to Apple TV+, not for long, ultimately releasing less than a month later than intended. Thankfully the film itself was worth the fuss, a taut World War II suspense thriller that’s all killer, no filler – set during the infamous Battle of the Atlantic, it portrays the constant life-or-death struggle faced by the Allied warships assigned to escort the transport convoys as they crossed the ocean, defending their charges from German U-boats. Adapted from C.S. Forester’s famous 1955 novel The Good Shepherd by Tom Hanks and directed by Aaron Schneider (Get Low), the narrative focuses on the crew of the escort leader, American destroyer USS Fletcher, codenamed “Greyhound”, and in particular its captain, Commander Ernest Krause (Hanks), a career sailor serving his first command. As they cross “the Pit”, the most dangerous middle stretch of the journey where they spend days without air-cover, they find themselves shadowed by “the Wolf Pack”, a particularly cunning group of German submarines that begin to pick away at the convoy’s stragglers. Faced with daunting odds, a dwindling supply of vital depth-charges and a ruthless, persistent enemy, Krause must make hard choices to bring his ships home safe … jumping into the thick of the action within the first ten minutes and maintaining its tension for the remainder of the trim 90-minute run, this is screen suspense par excellence, a sleek textbook example of how to craft a compelling big screen knuckle-whitener with zero fat and maximum reward, delivering a series of desperate naval scraps packed with hide-and-seek intensity, heart-in-mouth near-misses and fist-in-air cathartic payoffs by the bucket-load. Hanks is subtly magnificent, the calm centre of the narrative storm as a supposed newcomer to this battle arena who could have been BORN for it, bringing to mind his similarly unflappable in Captain Phillips and certainly not suffering by comparison; by and large he’s the focus point, but other crew members make strong (if sometimes quite brief) impressions, particularly Stephen Graham as Krause’s reliably seasoned XO, Lt. Commander Charlie Cole, The Magnificent Seven’s Manuel Garcia-Rulfo and Just Mercy’s Rob Morgan, while Elisabeth Shue does a lot with a very small part in brief flashbacks as Krause’s fiancée Evelyn. Relentless, exhilarating and thoroughly unforgettable, this was one of the true action highlights of the summer, and one hell of a war flick. I’m so glad it made the cut for the summer …

11. PROJECT POWER – with Marvel and DC pushing their tent-pole titles back in the face of COVID, the usual superhero antics we’ve come to expect for the summer were pretty thin on the ground in 2020, leading us to find our geeky fan thrills elsewhere. Unfortunately, pickings were frustratingly slim – Korean comic book actioner Gundala was entertaining but workmanlike, while Thor AU Mortal was underwhelming despite strong direction from Troll Hunter’s André Øvredal, and The New Mutants just got shat on by the studio and its distributors and no mistake – thank the Gods, then, for Netflix, once again riding to the rescue with this enjoyably offbeat super-thriller, which takes an intriguing central premise and really runs with it. New designer drug Power has hit the streets of New Orleans, able to give anyone who takes it a superpower for five minutes … the only problem is, until you try it, you don’t know what your own unique talent is – for some, it could mean five minutes of invisibility, or insane levels of super-strength, but other powers can be potentially lethal, the really unlucky buggers just blowing up on the spot. Robin (The Hate U Give’s Dominique Fishback) is a teenage Power-pusher with dreams of becoming a rap star, dealing the pills so she can help her diabetic mum; Frank Shaver (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is one of her customers, a police detective who uses his power of near invulnerability to even the playing field when supercharged crims cause a disturbance. Their lives are turned upside down when Art (Jamie Foxx) arrives in town – he’s a seriously badass ex-soldier determined to hunt down the source of Power by any means necessary, and he’s not above tearing the Big Easy apart to do it. This is a fun, gleefully infectious rollercoaster that doesn’t take itself too seriously, revelling in the anarchic potential of its premise and crafting some suitably OTT effects-driven chaos brought to pleasingly visceral fruition by its skilfully inventive director, Ariel Schulman (Catfish, Nerve, Viral), while Mattson Tomlin (the screenwriter of the DCEU’s oft-delayed, incendiary headline act The Batman) takes the story in some very interesting directions and poses fascinating questions about what Power’s TRULY capable of. Gordon-Levitt and Fishback are both brilliant, the latter particularly impressing in what’s sure to be a major breakthrough role for her, and the friendship their characters share is pretty adorable, while Foxx really is a force to be reckoned with, pretty chill even when he’s in deep shit but fully capable of turning into a bona fide killing machine at the flip of a switch, and there’s strong support from Westworld’s Rodrigo Santoro as Biggie, Power’s delightfully oily kingpin, Courtney B. Vance as Frank’s by-the-book superior, Captain Crane, Amy Landecker as Gardner, the morally bankrupt CIA spook responsible for the drug’s production, and Machine Gun Kelly as Newt, a Power dealer whose pyrotechnic “gift” really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Exciting, inventive, frequently amusing and infectiously likeable, this was some of the most uncomplicated cinematic fun I had all summer. Not bad for something which I’m sure was originally destined to become one of the season’s B-list features …

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