#i do think it's smarter to accept the money and then just run away forever thats what i would rly do

[rose-lalondde]

me personally, I would've chucked that money right out the window and into his stupid face

[ateezmakemeweep]

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)

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @baekhvuns @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo @nlost21 @hyunjeansuniverse @cherryeonii @songsoomin @reeateez @biaswreckingfics @yunhoiseyecandy @sophrosyneeeee @uglychildd @happycandynoelle @seolarjk @liqhtiny @maedesculpaeusoubi @revehosh @svt-mangos @hcwurld @ateezappreciation @sanisms​ @khjssss​ @yixing-jaehyun​ @yeosangs-left-ass-cheek​

couldn’t tag: @ateez-after-dark @arkive78 

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 4)

Summary: The reader and Dean celebrate Tessa’s birthday with a big surprise before making a drastic change to their relationship...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 4,100ish

Warnings: language, angst, mentioned past sexual assault (not graphic)

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

_________

Dean’s POV

Two Weeks Later

“Oh fuck yeah!” said Dean, jumping up and down in the driveway as he read over the letter in his hands. 

“Dr. Dean that’s a bad word,” said Emily, the five year old three houses down. Dean slapped a hand over his face as she rode past on her bike, her father laughing to himself.

“Hope it’s good news, Dean,” said Chris.

“Very. Sorry about that,” said Dean, Chris waving him off as Dean jogged back inside. He read over the letter again and looked through the packet. “Alright. As long as you keep a B average or above you’re golden kiddo. You get straight A’s anyways so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Dean smiled and gathered up all of the documents, getting them together with Tessa’s birthday present. Y/N had tried to tell him that giving away his old iPhone was too much but all it did was sit in a drawer now when it worked perfectly fine. He was pretty sure she wasn’t going to be thinking about the phone at all once she found out about the grant.

He looked back at the bag on the table and frowned. Maybe she’d take it the wrong way, like he was trying to save her sister or their family or something like that. He could have given them the application and had them fill it out. They would have probably gotten it still. Dean knew his letter he’d included didn’t hurt but he didn’t want to be that guy. He was already a doctor, already helped Y/N with a job, already paid for dates and things. It was no issue for him at all and he knew she didn’t care about the money but he didn’t want to rub it in her face that he could help more than she could.

Dean grabbed his phone and called Cas, Sam stuck in some network client thing all night he’d told him. It rang a few times before it picked up, the echo in the background telling him he was on speaker.

“Deano!” said Benny. “Gonna make it over tonight after all?”

“Hey guys,” said Dean, sitting down on his couch. “You got the crew together?”

“Nah, just us and the girls. They’re still out shopping. What’s up?” asked Cas.

“You know Y/N?” asked Dean.

“The girl you’re clearly in love with? Yes we know her,” laughed Benny. Dean was quiet and heard them shift on the other end.

“Everything okay?” asked Cas.

“I think I fucked it up. I think I’m going too far too fast.”

“What do you mean?” asked Benny.

“Tessa, her little sister, she’s in high school and I applied for a grant on her behalf for her college and she got it,” said Dean.

“That’s a problem how?” asked Cas.

“I don’t want it to come off as me trying to save them or anything. I’m nervous she’s gonna get mad at me,” said Dean. His friends were quiet and knew a teasing comment wouldn’t come. “Guys.”

“Tell her you applied on a long shot and a grant is what helped you with school. You’re not saving the day, just sharing a benefit you got,” said Benny. “Shit I wish I’d had someone do that for me.”

“What’s going on Dean? You’re normally the last person to freak over shit,” said Cas. Dean sat back and stared up at the ceiling. 

“Talk to us bud,” said Benny.

“I like this girl and it’s been years and years since I had a girlfriend. You guys know I’m not good for more than a fuck,” said Dean.

“Lisa was a super bitch and you know that’s not true,” said Benny.

“I am in my thirties and I’ve never had a real relationship. I don’t even know how. I’m gonna fuck this up so bad. I know it.”

“Contrary to how often I call you a dick, you are one of the best people I’ve ever met,” said Cas.

“I agree and you know all our friends and especially Sammy would say the same thing. Brother you gotta relax. This girl from what you’ve said and everybody else says, well we ain’t never seen you so happy so stop freaking, go get ready for your date tonight and put some faith in this girl that she’s not gonna hurt you back,” said Benny.

“I didn’t say-”

“Dean, we’ve known you forever. We know when you’re scared. I know most people in your life end up hurting you but take it from us, not everyone will. I got a good vibe from her,” said Cas. 

“Me too,” said Dean quietly.

“You doing okay?” asked Benny. “In general you know.”

“Yeah. Most of the time I’m great now. The past few weeks have been awesome. I think maybe that’s why I keep freaking out over this girl. It’s like, fucking finally, I understand what a good relationship can be.”

“You been to Ketch lately?” asked Cas.

“No, not as a patient. I’m okay.”

“Well still go for a tag up every once in a while for us,” said Benny.

“I know. Never would have gone without you assholes getting on my back in the first place.”

“That’s what friends are for,” said Cas, Benny chuckling. “So where you guys going tonight?”

“Monico’s.”

“Fancy,” they both said and Dean rolled his eyes, smiling to himself.

“Goodbye assholes,” said Dean, hearing them laugh before he hung up. He sat up and took a deep breath. “Alright. Shower. Shave and fingers crossed tonight goes well.”

Reader’s POV

“Okay, presents before or after dinner?” you asked as you carried in a bag to Tessa’s room. 

“Before, obviously,” she said. 

“Alright, well I know you wanted something really badly this year,” you said. “Why don’t you open the green one first?”

“This feels like an iPhone box…” she said with a big smile. She tore off the paper and grinned. “Awesome! What one is it?”

“It’s a ten. It’s used but in really good condition. I got you a case and extra charger too,” you said. “We can swing to the store and activate it tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Y/N, really,” she said. She grabbed the card next and her eyes went wide when she saw the cash inside. “Y/N.”

“It’s your money you gave me. It’s yours. Buy whatever you want, okay?” you said. She nodded and unwrapped a few more small things, a book she’d been talking about, some make up you knew she’d use, a new pair of her nike running shorts that’d been on sale thankfully. You smirked when she picked up the last two presents in the bag. “Alright. I hope these are...suitable for you.”

She tore off the wrapping on one and started to laugh.

“It’s hot pink,” she giggled. “Why is it hot pink?”

“Cause vibrators come in a variety of colors,” you said with a laugh. “I will let you read through the charging instructions on your own and same for the other box. There is toy cleaner because yes you need to wash these things properly and I got some water based lube. Go with water based. It dries up faster but it works better to me. Oh and wash everything like five times before it goes anywhere near anything, okay?”

“Okay,” she laughed. “I can’t believe you actually bought me this stuff.”

“Can’t get pregnant off a toy,” you said.

“Definitely can’t do that,” said Dean, Tessa wide eyed as he popped his head into the doorway. She shoved the boxes back into the bag and he laughed. “I’m a doctor. Sex doesn’t bother me and I think your sister has a point.”

“Oh my God, I forgot he was here,” she said, running her hands over her face.

“I was wondering where you two ran off to,” he said. He stepped inside and pulled out a box from behind his back. “Happy birthday, Tessa.”

“Thanks,” she blushed. She undid the bow and paper, smiling as she opened the box. There was an envelope inside but she picked up the headphones and shook her head. “Dean I can’t accept this. It’s too much. I already know the iPhone must have been yours.”

“You are smarter than you look,” he said. “But I can’t accept your refusal of my present. I have new ones and those never get used and I’m bigger than you so you’re gonna lose this argument one way or the other.”

“I’d listen to him, Tessa. He gets his way when he wants it,” you said. She rolled her eyes but smiled.

“Thank you. People haven’t been nice to us the past couple years,” she said. You glanced down to the floor, Dean leaving his arm wrapped around your waist. 

“People weren’t all that nice to me either for a long time,” he said with a nod. “Someday when you’re able, you help somebody else out, understand?”

“Yeah,” she said with a nod.

“Open the envelope. This one’s a present to you both,” he said. You cocked your head as she tore it open, reading for a long time before she pulled out a paper and handed it to you.

“Dean,” you said, sitting down on her bed after you’d read it a few times. “Dean this…”

“It’s a grant. It’s very similar to a scholarship. I’m an alumni of Elmdale and the medical school there. Tessa you qualify and so I applied on your behalf a few weeks ago and you were accepted. The grant will cover half of four years of tuition,” he said.

“What does that mean?” asked Tessa.

“It means we will have to pay very little with financial aid,” you said. She was beaming and you shook your head. “You applied weeks ago?”

“After I met you two. This house seemed familiar to me for some reason until I remembered. Y/N I told you someone helped me when I was eighteen?”

“Yeah?”

“I think his picture is hanging in the hall,” he said.

“Our dad?” asked Tessa.

“He got me a job and helped me pay for part of my school. I came here once when I needed his help. Your father was a very good man and it’s clear his daughters are the same. Neither one of you deserves to go through all the pain I did. I don’t want you to. It was no trouble at all to do, I swear.”

“Tessa, I work at Dean’s office as a lab tech,” you said. She turned her head and you saw Dean nod. “I lost my job before. We were scraping by. Barely. We’re okay now but without this grant...it would have wiped out our inheritance. That was for weddings and down payments for houses. We can keep it now...we can keep the house now.”

“You hate this house though,” she said. “I hate this house.”

“Tessa-”

“We can downsize,” she said. “Y/N, every night you stare down at their bedroom door. It’s like we live with ghosts or something. It doesn’t have to be so tight. Do we really need a five bedroom house?”

“It’s not as tight anymore. We’ll talk about it. Let’s go celebrate all the good news,” you said. “I’ve been dying for a Monico’s steak.”

“She seemed pretty happy tonight,” said Dean as you sat on the front porch a few hours later. You hummed and rocked in your seat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Did I overstep?”

“No. You were the boy in the mailroom, weren’t you. Dad used to talk about you sometimes. Mostly when I didn’t want to do something. He told me some people my age have it so much harder.”

“True. But you can’t compare one person’s struggles to another’s. It’s not fair to either one.”

“Would you sell this house if you were me?” you asked.

“I like that you live close by. I’d miss that. But it’s a lotta house for the two of you and it sounds like a change might be a good thing. You could downsize to somewhere else in the neighborhood and probably bank a good chunk of money for later on.”

“We could.” Dean was quiet, gears turning in his head. “What are you thinking of?”

“My house is a five bedroom too.”

“Yours is also newer,” you said. “And bigger.”

“Tell me if I’m crossing a line but...you guys...could stay there if you decided to sell this place. Temporarily. Or not temporarily,” he said. You stared up at him and he looked away. “Like I said, I’m sorry, I know it’s...I should go.”

“Hey. I’m not afraid of you.” His head turned back towards you and he swallowed thickly. “Tell me another secret and I’ll you one.”

“I think I I’m falling in love with you and I’m afraid I’m going too fast and that you think I’m creepy or weird deep down and I’m up to something when all I really see is me and my brother in you and your sisters places and I know how much it sucks and how much it hurts and I know you protect her from stuff she doesn’t even know about. I’m sorry for saying that about the house just now. I’d still like to see you though if that’s okay.”

“I think this is fast too but I also think that part of me fell for you the day you carried her home. You don’t want anything from us. Just to help and it’s not because you pity us or anything like that. If I’ve learned anything yet in life it’s that you don’t know when it’s gonna stop and there’s no use in wasting time.”

“What are you saying?”

“You willing to put up with a teenager, a service dog and someone who has not had a moment to themselves in two years?”

“As long as you don’t snore,” he smiled. You laughed and kissed his cheek. “Are you serious?”

“I don’t like this house anymore. If she doesn’t want it, I don’t want it. Maybe we can do some test runs, stay over for a weekend or two, see if we want to make it a not temporary thing.”

“That sounds great,” he smiled. “We’ll figure it out, sweetheart.”

Two Months Later

“I’m home,” you said on the way back from the store. You’d been staying at Dean’s for two weeks now after a nice couple closed on your old house. So far it’d been great and you were perfectly happy to stay there with him and Tessa for the foreseeable future. “I picked up some-”

“He is not my dad. I am eighteen,” said Tessa as she stormed over to the foyer. You glanced back to where Dean was over in the kitchen and sighed. “I want to go to Paulie’s tonight.”

“Who is Paulie?” you asked as you kicked off your boots.

“A friend,” she said.

“You’ve literally never mentioned him before,” you said, carrying some groceries through the family room and to the kitchen.

“That’s what I said,” said Dean as he peeled a potato at the island.

“I thought I said you’re not my dad so you can shut the fuck up.”

“Hey!” you shouted, Tessa freezing up. “Apologize to Dean.”

“He-”

“We are stable for the first time ever because of him. I trust Dean to make decisions for you when I’m not home. If he said no, then the answer is no. Go to your room,” you said. She grumbled and pounded her feet upstairs. You washed up and gripped the countertop. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe she said that to you.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be the bad guy,” he said as he picked up another potato. “Paulie what’s his face doesn’t sound like he wants anything other than in her pants so she can swear all she likes at me.”

“What’d she say exactly?”

“She wants to go over to Paulie’s tonight to hang out with some friends but I overheard her and Hailey talking earlier this week about a party and I don’t need a medical degree to put it together.”

“If she sneaks out I’ll kill her,” you said. You glanced down to Toast’s dog bowl and paused. “Dean what would happen if she drank on her medication.”

“She can’t drink alcohol on that stuff,” he said. 

“What would happen if she did.”

“She could have a seizure,” he said. 

“Tessa!” you shouted. You jogged upstairs and found her bedroom empty. “Tessa!”

The house was quiet and you put your hands on your head. 

“Toast!” you shouted, the dog trotting out from Dean’s bedroom. You immediately ran inside, Dean already upstairs and you saw her sitting out on the balcony in a chair, her face in her knees. 

“Can I…” said Dean and you nodded. You followed him outside, Dean walking over and squatting by her seat. “Tessa, what are you doing out here?”

“I wish I was normal, didn’t have a fucked up head.”

“I got one too,” he said.

“Do you have to take medicine for seizures? No?” she said.

“No but my dad used to beat me up,” he said. She turned and he nodded. “He would try to beat up my little brother too sometimes but I would take the hits when I could. Tessa, you can’t drink when you’re on your medicine. You just can’t.”

“I know that,” she said.

“You can’t sneak out and leave Toast behind either. It’s not safe.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Y/N and I get scared too is all.”

“You just pretend to like me cause you fuck my sister.”

“For the record, I don’t fuck your sister. Relationships are complicated. You might not realize this but I care about you for you. If I didn’t I would not want you in my house, in our house, and I wouldn’t get scared about you going to parties with guys that just want to use you for sex. I give a shit about you Tessa whether you believe me or not.”

“You don’t care,” she scoffed. “You feel sorry for us. Nobody on earth would ask two strangers to move in unless you-”

“Tessa you can think whatever you want about me. I’m not your father and I’ll never try to be him. But I sure as shit know how to be an older brother. So be pissed off and be rude and whatever else you want to. I’ve done this before with my own brother. You don’t scare me. The only thing that does is you getting taken advantage of or you getting hurt and Toast isn’t there to help. Someday you’ll get it through that thick skull of yours what the truth is but until then, I’ll be the asshole who doesn’t let you go to parties you’ll get hurt at.”

“You pity us.”

“I’m jealous of you.” She stared at him and you swallowed in the doorway. “Your parents loved you. Mine didn’t. You want to talk about being fucked up? I’m here anytime.”

She nodded and he sat up on the bench with her. You went inside and finished preparing the potatoes, mashing them up and saving them for later. It was nearly ten by the time you heard the stairs creak and Dean walked down them.

“Y/N,” said Tessa. You got up from the couch and walked to the bottom of the stairs, Tessa glancing down. “I’m sorry for how I’ve acted today and treated Dean lately. I was…”

“It’s okay,” he said quietly as he rubbed her back.

“I was scared when we moved in here a few weeks ago. I don’t want to lose you too and Dean takes up time that it used to be just us and I know the accident wasn’t my fault but I feel guilty still sometimes and I know your life is different because of it too and I want you guys to be happy, I do. I just get scared you’ll forget about me. I don’t wanna be alone. I’m not ready.”

“You don’t ever have to be alone, Tessa,” you said. She nodded and looked up at Dean.

“I know. I was silly. But I’m better now,” she said. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” you said.

“I know,” she said. 

“Why don’t you head to bed, Tess. Tomorrow I can come to your session with you like we talked about,” said Dean. She nodded and walked upstairs, Toast trotting into her room. You walked upstairs and into your bedroom with Dean, shutting the door after yourselves. “I should have...change is difficult on kids with PTSD. I should have realized that’s why she’s been so snippy. I thought it was just hormones.”

“Probably both,” you said, climbing onto the bed. He lay down next to you, staring up at the ceiling. “You care for her.”

“You two are a package deal, sweetheart,” he said with a light chuckle. “Can’t love one without loving the other.”

“Like you and Sam,” you smiled. “I can’t wait to meet him in person.”

“Me too.”

“Is Tessa okay? You guys talked a really long time.”

“She was afraid I would replace her, push her out. Granted I do like spending alone time with you and everything but she needs you and I’m not here to take you away from her. I think she understands that now.”

“Dean why haven’t we had sex?” you asked. He sat up and you shrugged. “We’ve dated nearly three months and you don’t even try to cop a feel. For how fast certain things are between us, that one feels a little slow. I just want to understand. I don’t...I’m not saying it’s a problem I just want to know.”

“You asked me on our first date, or you made a comment, that I don’t seem like the shy around women type.”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t use to be. A smidge, especially if they were the one that seemed to be controlling the situation but it was always good. I had some girlfriends, had some hookups. More than my fair share of hookups. The girlfriends…”

“The bitch one?” you said, getting a chuckle out of him.

“I stopped thinking I was relationship material for a while. So I did hookups for a long time and that was good. Until about two years ago. I haven’t had sex since.”

“Did someone hurt you?”

“No. I just...I asked her to stop and she didn’t.”

“Dean she hurt you.”

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well I don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay?” he said. He put his back to you and you took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know we sleep in the same bed and…”

“And I don’t need to have sex with you. Would I like it? Sure. But my sister and I aren’t the only ones in this house that need to be taken care of. You’ve done a really good job of that lately and I’d like to start pulling my weight in that department. When you’re ready for sex, you tell me, otherwise, I will just cuddle you real hard until then, okay?”

“Alright,” he said quietly. He reached behind himself and wrapped your arms around him. You kissed the back of his neck, Dean taking slow breaths. “I don’t really know how to let someone take care of me though.”

“We’ll take it slow,” you said. “Like maybe with you being little spoon tonight.”

“Alright. I can try, sweetheart.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

[obeiii-mee]

I am not sure if the request is open- fanfic or headcanon an angst of mc sacrificing her life to return Lilith to them and lilth come back so she told she's only here becuz the mc bought her back how would the demon brother cope with it- it is okay if you don’t want to write it :)

I haven’t written any angst yet on this blog so I don’t really know how this is going to turn out. I don’t know how MC would be able to bring Lilith back so I’ll just figure something out as I write along. It’s hard for me to write the brothers suffering help me-

I want to make it clear that I don’t know if it’s possible for a human to do something like this but for the sake of this request let’s roll with it. Lilith is back and MC sacrificed their life for that to happen. I really don’t think any of the brothers would react well because Lilith and MC aren’t the same person. They love both of them very much but they wouldn’t be able to make one suffer just to bring the other back. All the HCs are related, happening on the same day, in the same way. Lilith reuniting with her brothers one by one starting with Lucifer. Hopefully this makes sense but I don’t really have my way around words so——

This is obviously too long so I won’t be able to write for all the brothers in one post. Instead I’ll write about Lucifer, Mammon and Levi in this one and then continue this on another post. So this is part one. Thanks for the request!

Pt. 2

————————————-

The Brothers Reacting to MC sacrificing themselves to bring Lilith back, Part 1:

Lucifer:

-OK, realistically speaking, it should have been impossible for Lilith to be brought back. She lived as a human and died, that’s it, you can’t reverse something like that. But you really didn’t want to give up, seeing the way the brothers acted whenever the topic of their sister was brought up was too much for you to handle. So you kept looking and searching for spells, magical objects, anything you could get your hands on that could help. You even spoke to Solomon about it in secret, away from Lucifer’s prying ears. You were too determined to be swayed away from the task.

-Of course, after a long time of searching, you found exactly what you were looking for. And of course in order for Lilith to be brought back to life once again, you would have to give something in return; your life. It was a hard pillow to swallow but after hours of arguing back and forth with yourself, you decided to do it. For the sake of all the brothers and their happiness. It wasn’t the quickest of deaths but it definitely didn’t hurt nearly as much as it should have. And once your soul had officially been diminished, Lilith was given a tangible body and teleported to DevilDom. That also meant that she was completely aware as to why or how and she wasn’t exactly happy. It was an indescribable moment full of misery and despair for her. She was back and her descendant payed the price for it.

-Lucifer didn’t really believe his eyes when he first saw his long dead sister on their couch, supposedly staring at nothing. He first assumed that he was daydreaming which seemed like the most rational option at that point. Due to all the paperwork he had to finish by the end of the week, he had been rather sleep deprived and it made sense that he started hallucinating. After all, Lilith was on his mind quite a lot. But then she noticed him and she sprung into his arms before he could even get a word out. It always used to be like this. Her running straight into him just to show her affection back when they were both angels and happy.

-She was real, not a dream or a fiction of his mind and he didn’t know how to feel about it. He was torn, as if all of his emotions were threatening to come out at once and he didn’t know how to handle that. Lucifer uses logic for every situation he finds himself in, but this time, it was thrown out the window. It didn’t matter why or how or when. All that mattered was that she was here and he got to see her again after all these millenniums of dealing with the slow torture of having to carry the burden of her death by himself. He was ready to go get his brothers, the rest of his dysfunctional family and obviously MC had to come along too, them being just as important to him as everyone else. But Lilith grabbed his sleeve.

-His sister told him everything. Ranging from MC’s sacrifice to her waking up in DevilDom and to her wandering around until she found the House of Lamentation. His brain stopped working the moment the words registered with him as Lilith rambled on with her story. He almost wanted to ask her if she was joking but he knew her better than that; his little sister was never one to joke about something so grave.

-Lucifer always knew that their exchange student was a bit of a nutcase and definitely special in their own way. Considering how often they went to the extremes and overdid every little thing that had to be done. But this...this was something entirely different. They gave up their own life for them, for Lilith to come back and they did this because of him and his siblings. The second time MC had been ripped away from him, without even the satisfaction of saying goodbye because they were way too good for his family and for DevilDom in general. He wanted to scream and cry and curse his father even more so than usual for this cruel turn of events. Any more of this emotional suffering, and his heart may as well stop pulsating. MC died and he couldn’t help them in any way, he couldn’t stop them from making this mistake because he had just gotten over Lilith’s death and had begun to heal from the trauma. And now you left him as well.

-Lilith forced him to sit down and let him deal with his internal breakdown while she thought this out. At this rate her brother was either going to wind up in a blind rage and pop out another Satan or drown himself in depression and anguish. But Lucifer, despite the range of emotions conflicting him on the inside, tried remaining as calm on the outside as possible. Lilith was right there. He shouldn’t cry in front of his sister, he never did. He was always supposed to be the role model, be the strong protector that she could lean on if she needed help. With a single tear running down his cheek, which he quickly wiped away, he got up, abruptly much to the protest of Lilith and began walking toward the door.

-He had to tell his brothers. The news would break every single one of them and he couldn’t do anything about it. He had the responsibility of going to every single one of them and privately discuss this because god knows what chaos would ensue if they were all in a room together with Lilith. He would have to talk to Lord Diavolo, get another exchange student down there but...not yet. Not yet. He had to tell his siblings first. His younger brothers that he swore he would protect with all of his being since he couldn’t do so with Lilith. And now he had to go and break their hearts while his own lay shattered on the floor.

-But first, he was going to go and cry by himself, locked away in his room, so he can regain the power of speaking with everyone properly. And he would just have to accept the fact that MC will forever be stuck in his heart, with no means of getting them out.

-Who would have thought a human like you would stir up these feelings within me?

Mammon:

-It was his fault. It was always his fucking fault. Whenever something bad happened to you, the first person Mammon blamed was himself. How could he not? He was in charge of you after all, he was supposed to be your protector and guardian during your stay in DevilDom. Honestly, at first, he didn’t really care about you. Your whole existence and the fact he had to babysit you was irritating more than anything. But it didn’t take long for him to get attached to you, he fell and he fell fast. Soon enough, he was about ready to just dedicate his entire being to you (and money, we don’t forget about money). You were his human. So how did he fuck it all up?

-That day, he was supposed to be with you. At least one of the brothers had to be with you at all times, per Lucifer’s orders, to make sure you could circulate DevilDom without getting killed. He had one job to do. Follow you around until you got bored and wanted to go home. Then, since you were left with the rest of his brothers, he could go do his thing. But a modelling gig had come up rather abruptly and he had to go get ready for a few shots. Mammon, being a simp great companion and actually a lot smarter than people give him credit for, was really hesitant at first. He didn’t really want to leave you alone and offered to turn the job down. He would never admit it, but his human was way more important.

-However, you insisted it was fine, encouraging him to go and implying you would be alright for an hour by yourself. Besides, you had something to check and would probably be home in no time. He couldn’t really argue back so he reluctantly agreed and left you to your own devices.

-And that was the last time he saw you.

-After his shoot, he couldn’t find you anywhere. Not at home, not in Majolish, not at any of your favourite places. He wasn’t worried at first because he thought you were with one of his siblings. But half an hour later, he was getting panicky and pushing himself over the edge. Sitting alone in his room, pondering on where the fuck you could have been while also debating as to where he should look for you first. He really didn’t want to bring the subject up with Lucifer because he feared his reaction and the possibility he would forbid Mammon from helping him search for you.

-And just as he had conjured up a master plan, Lucifer walked in. With Lilith behind him like it was regular Tuesday night. Her presence wasn’t acknowledged for a few moments, he was too concentrated on Lucifer’s face, scared out of his wits that he found out you were missing and now he was about to face punishment. His older brother didn’t look angry though. Grave and sad, but mostly solemn, like he was holding back. Then it clicked that his loving sister, the one that was supposed to be dead, was standing next to him. Mammon jumped. Physically jumped backwards and fell off the bed in surprise. If there was one thing he disliked more than giving his money away, it would be thinking about Lilith. His memories with her brought him nothing but tears.

-Lilith smiled, in an honest and slightly upset way, seeing her brother’s antics after such a long time made her feel a sort of nolstagia she didn’t think she would miss. Mammon was still staring at her like he’s just been told he had to give all of his money to the witches. He kept switching his gaze between her and Lucifer, as if confirming with him that she wasn’t a ghost while he kept his eyes wide in horror.

-“Stop that Mammon. Your gawking is giving me a headache.” Lucifer snapped, more ferociously than usual which was odd. Mammon thought he looked more tense, rigid but he didn’t push the subject. He wanted to get up, walk up to Lilith and touch her, see if she was real. And then he wanted to hug the living daylights out of her. But he froze on the spot until Lucifer finally managed to spit out that Lilith was, indeed, back. And then Mammon sprinted straight into her arms like a fired bullet, not planning on letting go for a long time. His sister just smiled again, happy to see her needier brother again and to know that despite being a demon now, he hadn’t changed all that much. That moment was sort of euphoric and he grasped onto it for as long as he could.

-Then came the devastating news that would hit Mammon in the gut harder than a moving truck.

-MC was gone. Forever. Forever, forever. Never to be seen again. Gave her entire being up for Lilith to come back to life. Lucifer told him but his eyes and voice seemed to be elsewhere, as if he struggled to show emotion in his voice during his monologue because he was directing those emotions somewhere else. Lilith tightened her grip on him, preparing for a meltdown, or even an angry fit, anything could be expected from this brother of hers in particular.

-Oh there was a meltdown alright. His reaction was immediate. He started shaking, uncontrollable trembling that he couldn’t stop no matter how hard he tried to and his vision blurred and swayed as if he was drunk and his nails were digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. Everything felt unstable and he couldn’t take MC’s face out of his mind, like their face was printed onto his brain for keeping purposes. His throat dried up and besides the stream of tears rolling down his face, Mammon started sweating. In the span of a minute, he’s gotten too immeasurably hot and now he was sweating even though he lives in hell and should already be used to this kind of warmth.

-He became unresponsive after that. Not even Lucifer could get through to him. He just sat there, like a broken shell. His brother was speaking to him about things, replacements and a bunch of shit he wasn’t interested in. He didn’t want to hear any of it. He just wanted his human back, even if it meant he had to serve the witches for the rest of eternity. After a while, both of them left. Lucifer giving his shoulder a squeeze, something he hasn’t done in forever but the gesture was somehow comforting. It showed that his older brother was suffering too and he could tell from his voice alone. Lilith hugged him one more time and pecked his cheek and he wanted to grab her hand and keep her there because even though she literally just came back, he needed his sister to stay with him as he went through this. Mammon let them leave.

-He’s more closed off than before. He still steals shit all the time but it’s out of pity for himself more than anything else. He also took a bunch of your belongings too, something to remind him that you existed once. That you had a presence and changed his life and his brothers for the better. Mammon breaks down at the most random of times whenever he’s reminded of you and these sometimes take hours before he finally calms down. Somehow Lilith is the only one who happens to have an effect on him. Her presence at least helps. But not by a lot.

-Stupid human, letting him be an idiot and allowing him to leave you all by yourself. Stupid Mammon for being such a moron and letting the one person that understood him beyond the surface of the Avatar of Greed and actually associated him with being more than just scum, die. Stupid MC, leaving him all alone...

-He just hopes you’ve made it to the Celestial Realm...but seeing as you died in DevilDom, he doubts it.

Levi:

-Levi was sort of used to you showing up late to his gaming sessions. He didn’t blame you really, his brothers were sure to try and grab as much of your attention as possible so it makes sense you forgot about little old him. Except you never did. Sure you came by later than planned, but you always came no matter what so maybe he wasn’t giving you enough credit.

-Maybe he should have tried calling you, or even just texting you to see what you were up to. That’s why he had a D.D.D to begin with after all. But he didn’t. He assumed you were with Mammon or reading with Satan somewhere. Maybe sleeping with the twins. Levi reasoned with himself that you were probably fine and just got caught up on something on the way home. Yet the pit in his stomach kept growing with every minute that passed and before he knew it, he was pacing around the room.

-He heard Mammon having a breakdown from somewhere, and at first, he really had an overwhelming urge to check in with him and see what the problem was. Maybe something happened to MC. Maybe something happened to his older brother. Levi has a dislike for him sure, but he still wouldn’t want Mammon to suffer, no matter how much money he owes him. He didn’t leave his room. He assumed he was crying because the witches were at it again or maybe because he lost all of his money at the casino or even because Lucifer was punishing him for something.

-Then, a knock came on his door and he jumped to his feet faster than he had ever done so before. Password and all long forgotten, he opened the door to his room expecting to see you. Instead, he came face to face with his oldest brother, which disappointed him beyond measure. He was about to mumble something about MC and whether he had seen them at all that day but something stopped him. Behind Lucifer, just barely visible since she is slightly shorter than him, was Lilith. His reaction was definitely interesting.

-“Oh-I....holy crap, this is just like that anime where the protagonist’s dead sister comes back as ghost and starts talking to him. Oh shit, am I going insane or are ghosts are actually real? And not Lilith, Lilith doesn’t deserve to live the rest of eternity as a ghost-“

-“Shut up Levi.”

-“Sorry.”

-Lilith slowly walked out him and hugged him, which debunked Levi’s theory. She wasn’t a ghost! She was real and she was hugging him! He missed her so much, he was actually still doubting the fact that she was back. Levi tried pushing her out of his mind so many times because it hurt too much to think of her and now she was right here in front of him.

-The moment didn’t last though. Lucifer had to interrupt. He himself was shaky, still processing a bunch of things and on top of all that, he had to break his brothers’ spirits. The words came out eventually and Levi’s reaction was a lot slower than Mammon’s. He couldn’t process it as well and it felt like his life was put on pause, like in one of his video games. Lilith was holding him, as a sort of support system but Levi just kind of drifted in another world.

-Sure, he missed his sister dearly. But that didn’t mean he wanted MC’s life to be exchanged with hers. It was such an unfair choice really, making him choose between two people he absolutely adores. Except he didn’t make that choice. You did. And it changed everything.

-Ever since you left, he hasn’t had as much energy in playing games or even watching anime. He can’t find himself sitting for too long, he always has be to pacing and chewing on his fingernails. Everything seemed pointless without you here. Nothing was right. Watching anime by himself wasn’t as enjoyable even though he used to do it for a long time before you even came to DevilDom. He doesn’t have the energy to participate in Ruri chan contests either, though sometimes he makes an effort to. In a way to satisfy himself knowing that you didn’t die for him to mope around all depressed.

-He just sort of lays in his room all day, speaking with Henry 2.0 occasionally or just trying to relax in his bathtub. But it never works. Your voice keeps ringing in his ears. He misses you terribly and his sleeping schedule probably worsened since he can’t sleep now at all, thanks to all the nightmares he gets every night, featuring you of course.

-Out of all the things the world could have taken away from him, it just had to be his Henry didn’t it? Maybe he was just cursed from ever finding a true friend like you....

Hey, yeah I’m not dead. Just been working on this for a while now. This is obviously too long already so I can’t write for all the brothers at once. I’ll do a second post continuing this ask soon but for now I’ve written and edited this for the eldest three. Sorry it took so long and that I only managed three of the brothers. I’m still working on the following four. Thanks for reading! Part 2 should done soon!

[recklessmark]

chapter four: you’re my first kiss

—from DISCRETION series

Summary: you incidentally met a notorious CEO and your gut told you that you must claim this man. and even the fact that he’s engaged to someone else didn’t stop you from achieving what you want.

Pairings: CEO! Mark x Designer! Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 1520

—previous: chapter three-i love him forever, is it better than you yet?

“I come to see Y/N.”, it’s a familiar voice.

Alicia turns around, she hesitantly speaks to the man. “Sorry, Y/N is really busy. You can tell me if there’s a problem.”

She knows Mark Lee is not someone she can get involved with but you’re now looking like a corpse, nothing different from Ursula from The Little Mermaid. If she lets anyone see you like this, you will definitely murder her and cut her body into pieces. Moreover, you’re drained, Mark is the powder with a fuse like you, just add some friction, this whole studio will utterly explode.

Mark is getting too impatient now, taking advantage of Alicia thinking about the situation, he passes her to directly open your office door.

“Wait! No-“, Alicia sighs, silently collecting her stuff, in case that you’ll fire her.

Closing the door, Mark’s eyebrows tighten as he sees plenty pieces of wedding dress fabric on the turfed carpet. There’re some mannequins wearing lavish wedding gowns.

You ignore the sudden noise in your room, continue tucking your face in your paper sketch. You’re in a rush, this is the last dress, you have to complete it in time.

“Ali, grab me a black coffee cup, I definitely can stay up all night.”

Mark quietly leans on the doorframe, listens to your demand. You feel something weird, Alicia always do things immediately, why she hasn’t left yet, neither speaking up.

You angrily yell, “God just fucking go out!”

“You’re getting mad at me?”

You froze at your seat, your dark-circle eyes widen, not even dare to look up. With this appearance, you will be traumatized with embarrassment if you raise your head. You instantly open a drawer of your working desk, finding sunglasses and a mask, putting them on before standing up.

“Wow, Mr Lee has time to visit me huh?”

Mark weirdly looks at you, and steps forward. You anxiously make two steps backward, “Mark, if you need to say something just say it. No need to be this close.”

Normally, you’re like magnet whenever you see him, worry that someone will be faster than you even for a second. But now you’re trying to make a distance from him. Also wearing sunglasses and face mask indoor, he wonder do all designers act like this?

“Take them off.”

You chuckle nervously, “To preserve the prettiest image of me in your mind, we should better talk like this.”

But who is Mark Lee? He will follow what you said?

Seeing Mark doesn’t back off, you’re getting more and more frantic, and your body surely can not bear his. He quickly spreads his arm out, firstly the glasses, pitifully laying on the carpet.

“Y/N, you...”

You sigh, taking your mask off, revealing the exhausted face. “What do you want? I don’t have time.”

Mark feels something hurt in his chest. He finally can see an arrogant person like you being like this but he can’t find a hint of happiness. “I can’t call you. Where’s the dress? You’re gonna ruin the wedding by letting the bride be naked huh?”

Your face lights up like you’ve just found another universe. You didn’t think about that but now you will consider whether you should do it.

Your eyes wander around the room, your index finger points at a silver suitcase in the corner. “Over there, come have a look yourself.”

He glances at you and then walks towards the suitcase, unlocks it.

You actually put a lot of efforts into that dress, even the material is super pricey. Although it takes a lot of money and time but you are satisfied with the result, you didn’t make it for Kim Yeri, you made it because Mark asked.

“You like it? My competency is way better than you anticipated right?”, you cockily say.

“Right, very good.”, he nods.

You’re surprised, Mark never praised you like that. Staring into oblivion, a shadow lands onto your figure, you snap back to reality. Looking up, your face is now an inch from Mark’s. His fingers tilt your chin up, “I didn’t see you a few days, you missed me to even turn out like this huh?”, he sighs.

You giggle, decide to get along with his joke. “Right, and you have to take responsibility for me.”

You think it was just a simple joke, there’s no way Mark would accept that stupid accusation.

“Okay!”, he nods, seriousness glinting in his eyes.

Your mind has just been blown away by his simple ‘okay’, “No more joking, I have lots of work to do, if there’s nothing else you can go”. You move away from the hand on your chin, walking towards the sewing machine to finish your work.

“When will you be done?”, he checks his watch.

You stop a bit, look at the watch on your wrist to estimate the time. “If you stop irritating me, probably before this afternoon.”

“Alright, I’ll wait.”

A warm feeling fills up your chest, except of Alicia, no one has said they would wait for you, and the potential reason for that is none of them can actually wait.

Marks takes his phone out, decides to call Yeri.

“Mark!”

Yeri picks up the call without hesitation when the contact’s name appears on her phone. She’s been worrying when Mark told her he was coming to your place to see the wedding dress.

“Yeri, I’m busy today. I’ll bring the dress to you tomorrow, bye.”

Yeri has a lot of things to say but the things she heard were two sentences and the sound of the ring-off call. Her face displays an unbelievable look, she frantically messages you.

Alicia sees your phone brightens up, a message appears. She frowns, it’s from a stranger, after thinking a little bit she decided to bring the phone for you. She wants to know what’s happening inside too, the curiosity is kicking in her.

Knock! Knock!

“No one can come in! Go!”

Alicia deadly heard Mark’s voice, she stomps on her feet, confusingly speaks up.

“Y/N! Someone texted you she wanted to send you her paintings. Can I answer for you?”

With a speed of light, you run to the door, snatch your phone from Alicia’s hand and mumble a quick “thank you” before slamming the door shut. Alicia is so confused now, she didn’t even a see a single thing and you already closed the door. She’s getting more curious now, wondering what are you doing inside that she can’t see.

You smirk, the messages are continuously blowing up your phone. Until the phone stops vibrating, you speak to Mark. “Your fiancé really wants to control you that much huh? She even demanded to see me, why do I feel like we are cheating on her?”

He glances at you, lets you continue talking.

“Shut your phone down.”

“For what.”

“She’s calling you.”

He doubtfully comes to take your phone,

[10:26am] you: “I’m not being with Y/N, don’t bother her.”

His feeling for you is going up day by day. You did that to make Yeri think both Mark and you are playing with her, didn’t you? As you expected, his phone rings few seconds later. You quickly pick it up, also on the speaker mode.

“Mark! Why did you lie to me? You’re with Y/N, aren’t you? What are you doing with her? You want to cancel our wedding right? Fine, I’ll do it myself!”, her voice sounds angry.

You smile in satisfaction, she’s threatening Mark? Who she thinks she is? He slightly shakes his head, hang up the call and sit back again. He keeps Yeri besides him that long cause he thinks she knows how to behave. Many people want Mark but they’re all not as fortunate as her. All of a sudden, you just appear out of nowhere, smarter, prettier, more talented, more prominent than her. She certainly doesn’t want to lose everything. Everything she did few minutes ago has just blown all good impressions of her in Mark. He now only wants to push that girl far away from him as much as he can, he doesn’t know if he can control himself not to get furious at her.

You look at Mark’s no-emotion face, tracing his jawline with your hand.

“Baby? Don’t get mad okay? The wedding is carefully planned, I even made a beautiful dress like that. You can not cancel it.”

Mark suddenly pulls you down by your arm, a second later you feel something wet on your lips. He kisses you, his tongue licks your lips delicately. You can only squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the tender kiss on your lips.

He only pulls away when you’re dying for air, you collapse in his embrace. “You kiss so bad, don’t tell me you’ve never kissed someone.”

You stand up again, “You’re the first one I ever kissed.”, you honestly say.

Although you do have a lot of ex boyfriends but you never went beyond holding hands or hugging. Mark Lee is the first person you allow to cross the barrier. But little do you know, when he heard he’s your first kiss, he wants to actually cross the barrier even more.

Mark grabs your waist, pushing you down to sit on his lap.

“What’s now Mark? I haven’t finished my work.”

“You can work later. Now answer me, no one has fucked you right?”, he stares into your wide-opened eyes.

—next: chapter five-distraction

©️  DREAMYKRAM. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

taglist: @nuoyii @jjikyuu @generantionct @keemburley @skrtbeepbeep @sunshinedhyuck @jenotation

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 21: best friend’s sister

Character A poses as their best friend’s lover for a Christmas party. Character B is the best friend’s sister,, percabeth

Percy truly doesn’t understand how it’s come to this.

He likes to think that he has at least some form of dignity, but he is quickly proven wrong as he is shoved into a suit by someone that has the audacity to call herself his friend.

“Quit pouting,” Piper chastises, pulling on his tie just a bit too tightly. He chokes dramatically, glaring at her, but she just rolls her eyes. “You agreed to this.”

“I did not agree to this,” he says. “I was simply there when your mom told you to bring a ‘lover’ to the party, and you held me at gunpoint.”

“You love it,” she says, laughing. It’s the complete opposite of the truth because he actually hates this, but his windpipe is cut off so he’s incapable of actually pointing that out.

“There’s no way anyone’s going to fall for this.”

She laughs. “Everyone will fall for this, and that’s why it’s perfect. No one’s seen us in forever since we moved away for college. We can just frame it as two best friends falling in love.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know if I can do that. I look at you and want to vomit.” Piper gasps in mock offense. “You never had feelings for me? Not even small ones?”

“I had feelings for a lot of people, but believe it or not, you were never one of them. Not then, not now, not ever.”

“You really just friend zoned your best friend,” Piper says.

“I’m in love with someone else,” he lies.

Piper snorts. “You’re in love with my sister.”

His smile falls. “I am not. You take that back.”

“Relax, Percy. I think it would be cute if you got with her. You could marry into the family!” She claps her hands before pausing. “We could just never talk about sex again. I don’t want to hear about how you blew my sister’s back out.”

Percy shrieks. “Piper!”

She just laughs, throwing the jacket of his suit in his face and motioning for him to follow him out the front door. He hurls insults at her as he settles into the driver’s seat – also against his will, by the way – but she just throws them right back at him.

The hour drive home is spent with them being about as stupid as possible. They scream along with the music blasting in the car until they’re both laughing so hard they can’t breathe. It helps ease his nerves because he knows who’s going to be at this Christmas party, no matter how hard he tries to deny it.

He can’t even say her name right now because if he does, he might crash just so he doesn’t have to face her. It’s almost as though Piper can sense his frustration because she turns the music even louder until the car is shaking with the bass and he can’t hear his own thoughts.

Percy never ceases to be amazed by the wealth of Piper’s family. The second he walks into the manor, he is overwhelmed by the silvers and golds lining every inch of the place. It’s funny because he grew up around them, but it was always a stark contrast to the way his own life was. He could live a million lifetimes and never get used to being around people with this amount of money.

“So you’re rich rich,” Percy teases, just as he always does when they come home for the holidays,

“I’m wealthy,” she corrects, leading him along the corridors to the center of the party.

“Old money or new?”

“The type that could have you killed with the snap of my fingers,” she answers.

“Oh, please do not have me killed, your highness.” He grins cheekily as they walk into the center of the event.

“I must admit I’m liking the title,” she says. She stops him just before they are close enough to be noticed by anyone else, turning serious, and Percy fails miserably to match her tone. “From here on out, you’re my boyfriend, okay?”

“Oh god, I just threw up in my mouth.”

“That means having to kiss me at least once,” Piper says. “On the lips.”

“Please don’t make me.”

“I will never hear the end of this is they find out we’re faking, so start acting like a good boyfriend.”

“Uh.”

“Kiss me.”

“No.”

“Percy.”

“I can’t do it.”

“You’re going to plant one on these lips, or I’m going to pick up one of the silver forks and stab you with it.” “Fuck you.”

“Yeah, well if you’d kiss me, we might be able to get there.”

And then: “This is getting painful to watch.”

Percy and Piper both jump at the extra voice present. He turns his head so fast he nearly gets whiplash, and of course it’s her.

“Annabeth, my love!” Piper greets, giving her a lazy side hug. “I was just trying to get my boyfriend to kiss me.”

“Hm. I didn’t know you two were dating,” she says, a pointed grin towards Percy.

“Christmas surprise,” Piper adds, addressing Percy. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”

“You act like Annabeth’s my distant aunt,” Percy says, but he wraps her in a sweet hug anyways. It makes his heart stutter just the tiniest bit, and he has to force himself under control.

It’s embarrassing that he’s this caught up on her. It makes him feel a little guilty too, because she’s practically still a baby. He remembers when she was in diapers, wandering around the house with a pacifier while him and Piper messed around with play dough. Still, she had grown up, and he had too, and he hadn’t accounted for how pretty she would grow to be.

Okay, so he’s not that much older than her. He’s twenty, and she’s eighteen, so he supposes it’s acceptable, but now he’s in college and she’s still in high school, so things have grown… weird? He just doesn’t see her as much as he used to, and something in her changed. When she was younger, she would cling to him, but recently, she just looked at him with something he couldn’t pinpoint.

It looks similar to the face she has on now, actually.

“So you two are a couple now?” Annabeth asks, but Percy doesn’t really hear her. He’s too distracted looking everywhere except her short black dress she has on, or the way her curls fall perfectly onto her chest, or the gloss of her lips.

Piper elbows him, and he clears his throat. “Yeah. The happiest. We’re so in love. I want Piper’s babies.”

“Hm. From what I’ve heard, I wouldn’t have thought that was very true,” Annabeth says, giving him a knowing look.  It makes him wonder just what she’s heard. “Anyways, dinner’s about to start. Why don’t you go show everyone just how in love you are, oh-so-real couple?”

Piper laughs, but Percy glares at her. He’s given no choice but to follow Piper as she skips towards the dinner, and Annabeth follows at a distance, eyes analyzing them. Annabeth clearly hadn’t fallen for the disguise for even two seconds, so it has him worrying the rest of the night.

He is rightfully worried because the dinner does not go at all as expected. Annabeth is directly to his right, and Piper to his left, and they seem determined to kill him. Piper’s all lovey on the outside, which is not something he’s used to in the slightest, and it has the entire family’s attention on him. They coo over the new ‘couple,’ and Annabeth laughs into the hand covering her mouth.

Annabeth clearly enjoys the entertainment, and also relishes in embarrassing him even more because she’s started playing footsy under the table, running her heels up and down his ankle. He does his best to not make a face, but then her hand occasionally brushes against his wrist, and it has him wondering what it all means. Annabeth is much more handsy today than she’s been… ever, and he’s enjoying it more than he should with his fake girlfriend next to him, so the next opportunity he gets to leave, he takes full advantage.

He twists and turns through the halls, gets lost about five times before finding somewhere that looks remotely familiar, and then repeating the process. It’s a good few minutes before he finds an empty balcony and pushes open the doors to step outside.

It’s not to take a moment to breathe, really, because he’s fine. It’s just overwhelming, he supposes, sitting next to the girl he’s almost ninety percent sure he’s crushing on that he probably shouldn’t be, and his best friend who is apparently his girlfriend now.

“Hey, Piper’s boyfriend,” a voice calls. “You good?”

Percy rolls his eyes fondly, turning around. “Did you need something, Piper’s sister?”

She just shrugs and steps forward. “Just thought I’d come tease you a little bit.”

“Tease me?”

“A fake relationship? Really?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he says. “You’re, like, twelve.”

“I’m eighteen, but nice try.”

“A baby,” he emphasizes, heart suddenly beginning to race as she drags her fingers up his chest, tugging lightly on the tie. “Do you need something or not?”

“I guess I just have a question,” she says, leaning against the rail now. “So. I’ve heard things. Suspected even longer because even if I’m two years younger, I’m about two years smarter.”

He laughs. “What do you want to know?”

“You liked me,” she says. “Back in high school, I think.”

It’s a blow to his lungs, and he can’t find the air to breathe. He knew she’d bring it up at some point, because even if they never acknowledged it, it’s been floating between them, unsaid. He never acted on it because she was practically his own little sister at some point, and she’s Piper’s sister, and it just felt wrong.

“I think so,” he answers. “I don’t know.”

“Explain?”

“You’re Piper’s sister,” he tries.

“I’m Piper’s sister. I’m also your friend.” Annabeth tilts her head, a slight smile pulling at her lips. “What’s the problem then?”

“I–” He blinks. “I don’t know. I guess there isn’t one, really. It just never turned to anything more before I graduated, and now I’m hours away.”

“That leads me to my next question.” She stands again to face him head on. “You’re in college now. I haven’t seen you more than five times since you graduated two years ago. Are those feelings still there?”

“I don’t recall you ever being so upfront,” he teases. He doesn’t need to take time and think about her question though. He already knows the answer. He knows it every single time Piper says her sister’s name, or one of Annabeth’s pictures pops up on his timeline. He likes his best friend’s sister.

It might be more than just a crush.

(Definitely more than a crush.)

“I love you, Annabeth,” he says, “but I don’t want to do anything that might make things different, you know? I grew up with you, and I grew up with Piper, and if something happens, Piper will take your side, and I’ll lose the two people I love most, and–”

“That’s not what I asked,” she says. “I asked if the feelings are still there.”

From the way she’s looking at him, he doesn’t need to answer. “Why are you asking if you already know the answer.”

“Because I want to know if it would still be a good time to kiss you, like I’ve wanted to do for the last two years.”

Percy chokes out a laugh. “Annabeth.”

“You love me, Percy. It’s obvious to see it’s as more than a friend, and it always has been.” She bites at her bottom lip. “Do you know how many people I’ve had tell me that you and I would work well together?”

“I’m assuming a lot.”

“Piper was the number one supporter, surprisingly enough,” she tells him. “And I know you’re on a date with my sister, but she practically shoved me out of the dining room chair to come follow you, so it’s safe to say she wants this too.”

“Piper has issues.”

“Yeah, but you love her, and you love me.” Percy’s fingers fidget, because even though all of this has been swimming around inside him for years, hearing it from her is something else entirely.

“It’s only weird if you let it be,” she says, and something breaks inside of him.

Annabeth’s his friend too, and she’s a part of his life.

He loves her, so he kisses her.

It feels an awful lot like coming home. Suddenly, nothing else matters except him and her. Annabeth is his best friend’s sister, but she’s also his best friend too, and the person he loves and always has.

He distantly realizes that it’s going to be difficult to explain to her family how he went from being Piper to Annabeth, but right now, he can’t bring himself to care. It’ll be a cute story to tell in the future if this ever turns to anything more. He really hopes it does.

Annabeth is his family, and his best friend, and she is the one he was meant to be with from the start.

[bloomyn]

satin robes & city smoke

pairing:  chrollo lucilfer x reader

tags: smut

warnings: badly written smut!!

unedited as of june 6th

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

you didn’t know how, but the packages always managed to find you. it didn’t matter if you were wrapped in a thick acres of trees or warped city skylines, nothing could stop the delicate bundles of lace from finding your arms. they were wrapped in the same shell every time, two fish emblazoned on the corner and a cross stamped on the inside flap. 

really, how discreet of the sender. 

-

there was a beautiful sort of despair that surrounded yorknew city. you never get used to the smell or the people but there’s a comfort in knowing that absolutely no one can rock your shit, that the foundation of the city rests idly in your hands and in just a wink you can send the city crumbling. the power in it all keeps you going, it gets you going.

you own this city.

the spider tattooed on your back decrees it.

-

a conversation from five years ago

“ since when are the legs more important than the head?” 

besides you chrollo laughed.

“i’m serious!” you sat up, jabbing a finger into his chest, “if you really want to make this happen you can’t hold yourself to a lower regard. you can’t be the most useless one.”

the man beside you sighed, “tell me, my love. would you die for me if it meant the safety of the group. could you sacrifice yourself if it meant the rest of us live.”

the smell of burnt metal wafts over the two of you and you scowl.

“that’s the dumbest question i’ve ever heard and you’ve said some pretty stupid shit to me.”

“hm. and i’d like to think that i’m the smarter one of the two of us.”

 you scoff, “would i die for the safety of the group?”

he nodded.

“we live in meteor city, i don’t even consider myself alive right now.”

-

but you do know something about the packages; besides the contents and what they’re meant to be used for. the packages are markers, date setters, they keep track of how long you’ve been away. the bigger the bouquet the longer you’ve been gone and the larger the reward for your return. sometimes the packages are nothing more than palm sized bundles, delicate lace decorating the inside and outside. 

the theme of the contents sitting inside stay the same.

the one sitting at your feet is different though. instead, the trademark fish and cross are gone, a twelve legged spider in it’s stead. the classic lace wrapping is painted red and you almost wish that the king could see the smirk decorating you’re face.

it seems you’ve been away from the city too long.

-

the black dress fits nicely, oh who are you kidding, chrollo was the one who sent it to you, of course it fits exactly. as you make your way towards the hotel you bask in the warmth of the city; the heat of street food, the smell of middle-aged men who’ve been left wifeless after losing their money in gambling schemes, it almost brings a smile to your face. 

and of course, the thought of chrollo waiting for you at the top floor of a highrise hotel has your thighs tensing in anticipation. the face you’re making right now must be a little much because when you arrive at the front desk the heart rate of the poor attendant spikes and her fingers quiver on the keyboard.

“h-here you go. please-please enjoy your stay.”

you tilt your head a little and flash a smile, “i’m sure i will.”

the elevator is empty when you step on and press for the top floor. you’re sure he can sense you by now if the shift in the air is anything but a dead giveaway. 

the lust enveloping your figure sparks at your fingertips and makes its way up until its rattling at your jaw. your toes curl inwards as the aura around you grows stronger, and your tongue goes numb at the sight of the doors sliding open. 

in front of you is a sight worthy of the most expensive canvases, delicate enough to view but almost too dangerous to touch.

and its all yours.

his back is broad and worn, his scapula protruding like wings, and your eyes can’t help but follow the way his lower back dips harshly into the waistband of his pants. when you look back up your eyes are caught by his own. his hair falls loosely around his face and internally you sigh.

“took you long enough.”

you hum, stepping into the hotel room, penthouse actually, and you can’t help the wash of pride when his eyes rake over your figure taking in every inch from the bottom of you calves to ‘those sweet sugary lips’ of yours. 

“miss me?” you tease, accepting his outstretched hand. he pulls you closer, his hands wandering to the down curve of your spine, while yours loop around his neck, resting on his shoulders. tracing your lips with his thumb he smirks, 

“i take it you got my presents.”

“you can see can’t you?” 

softly, chrollo unzips your dress, exposing the titillating lingerie beneath it. his gift to you.

it’s horrible how weak you make him, just the sight of you has his guard down for the count. he’s known you for years but he’s caught off guard everytime the two of you meet like this.

“i knew you’d look good in this,” he muses, “-look good in everything but you look even sexier in my gifts.”

“your ability to suck at being subtle is astounding.”

at that he laughs.

“can’t help it.” he sighs against your dewy skin, “gonna eat you up.”

your eyes flutter shut at the words and you let him guide you to the massive four post bed in the middle of the room. quick enough, he maneuvers you onto your back refusing to tear his eyes away from your silky curves. he likes you like this, squirming idly in his palm, right where he wants you. where nothing but time can pass over the two of you and leave you unscathed.

“stop teasing.” you plead, shifting your hips upward to graze against his. he ignores your words, opting to press kisses against your neck and leave you whining instead. swollen pink lips ghost over yours, refusing to meet them. “have you missed me?” his lips trace over yours.

“obviously.” you croon, “you’re the one who took forever to decide a time and place.”

lowering himself between your legs he parts your thighs just a little more, his hands massaging the smooth skin. using his teeth he drags your black panties down, eyes widening at the string of arousal sticking between you and the thin strip of fabric.

“chrollo i swear—”

but he doesn’t waste any time with a retort or tease instead delving his tongue into your core, not even bothering lick you open. you mewl at the feeling of his tongue working itself against your clit, you’re sure he’s mouthing prayers between your legs like your a deity meant to be worshipped.

they weren’t kidding when they said “you’re body is a temple.” it is infact a temple, a place where he could offer up everything to you. usually his body, his mouth...

his tongue moves in and out switching between spreading your pussy lips open and stretching your tight walls so they’re ready to take his cock. he loves this part, watching you squirm on his tongue, fingers holding your hips down because if he lets up for second you’ll snap your legs closed in embarrassment. and he can’t be having that, no, not after he’s waited six months to taste your arousal.

“thinking about something?” he ponders aloud, his face stained with your slick. he grins at the sight in front of him. you’re flushed, sweat dripping down the side your face and your eyes screwed shut. your nipples are pert against the lace.

ah cute, he thinks to himself, so helpless

and then he’s wrapping his mouth against your nipple, soaking in the moan you release, only encouraging him even more. his long fingers are pushing your soiled panties aside entering your pussy so gently, you almost scream at the way he flicks his wrist, pumping two fingers so fast you can’t tell if you’ve just orgasmed or if it’s really been that long since you’ve had something so deep inside you. but just the thought of his cock had you mewling , the idea of him filling you up, marking your walls with his cum while he works his mouth against yours; and decide you’ve had enough of his teasing.

you pull his mouth up to yours, almost regretting it when the cold air hits your bare pussy. you can taste yourself on his tongue, it’s not bad but by the way he eats you out you’d think your arousal would be the sweetest thing the world. your tongues work against each other, trying so hard to make each other submit.

but chrollos known you for years, he knows your endgame when you pull stunts like this, and absolutely revels in the sound of surprise you make when he sucks on your tongue.

“bastard.” you growl.

“behave and you’ll be rewarded.” he murmurs, “you know the rules.”

slowly, he unzips his pants revealing the hard outline of his cock. it takes all your willpower not to just flip him over and ride him till you’re crying.

but that will come later.

you whine impatiently as he slides his cock against your folds. you know he gets off on the idea of edging you, teasing you till your begging for him to fuck you, so you can’t help the nasty moan that spills out of your mouth when he slides his entire length inside you.

“oh f-fuck please,”

you don’t even know what you’re begging for, and you think that you might’ve come just from the feeling of his dick inside you but you have no time to decipher the pleasure running through your veins, not when he’s moving his hips so thoroughly against yours. your fingers knot themselves in his hair, and moans are pulled out of your mouth. incoherent garbles of his name are echoed across the room but all you can here the low grunts and groans up against your ear. he’s not a moaner or screamer, but the noises he does make enough to get you to clench tighter around his length .

“chrollo, baby please.”

he groans low in your ear, “want you to scream, wanna hear my good girl screaming my name.”

it’s not hard for you to comply.

your thighs are trembling when he lifts them over his shoulder, and he pulls you onto his cock. the sight of your legs tossed so easily onto his shoulders and the view of his impeccable abs push you closer to edge you’ve been waiting six goddamn months for. your hands find purchase on his shoulders as he pounds you recklessly, with no hesitation. he knows you can take his cock, he knows how far he can push you, and you forget he’s been waiting for this release too.

“never going to let you out of my sigh again.” he growls, “gonna fuck your pussy so hard it’ll be molded to my cock, never gonna be able to take some other bastards.”

“don’t want anyone else’s,” you pant, “only yours, only ever wanted yours.”

it only takes a few more slams of his cock and your orgasm rips through you so harshly you think you might pass out. you can hardly feel your legs and your hands are numb from gripping his shoulders so tight, but he doesn’t stop. he still hasn’t come and you know he won’t stop until he’s had his way with you, even if it means turning into his own pillow princess. so when he does come, spilling his load deep inside you with your name on his lips, you almost sigh in relief. you love the man you really do, but his stamina is unmatched and you only have an hour tops until he’s mounting you again.

-

nuzzling his face into your neck you bring a hand up to push his hair back.

“don’t leave.” he says childishly against your neck.

“—i know you want another round of course i won’t leave.”

it’s unbearable how adorable he looks like this. he’s just finished fucking your brains out but there he is, a pout sitting on his lips.

“no, that’s not what i meant.” he props the two of you up against the headboard, somehow keeping you stuffed with his dick, “don’t disappear again. stay here.”

“with you?”

“who else.”

you can’t say you love him out loud. it would be like admitting you have a weakness. there’s a reason you don’t stay in one place to long. a reason you act like you’re just another one of the spiders legs.

he makes your heart crescendo. and that’s dangerous.

your souls love each other too much, and maybe that’s more hazardous than keeping yourself away from each other. so when the sunday morning dawn comes over the horizon, you let him keep you in his arms, wrapped in satin sheets and city sunshine.

-

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Happiness Begins

Part 23

Chapter Summary: It turns out going home to Austin wasn’t all it cracked up to be. Elsewhere, Jensen has an interesting conversation with an old friend. 

Warnings: Language, angst, dealing with mental health issues

Word Count: 3.2K+

Author’s Note: I just want to start here by reiterating that this is a work of fiction and should be treated as such. I mean no harm to Danneel or her beautiful family, and I have a zero-tolerance policy on this blog. I see and legit forms of hate towards any wife and you are blocked. That being said, I hope you enjoy this part xoxo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly. 

Two months later…

When Y/n had stepped onto the tarmac in Austin, she had believed wholeheartedly that this could be a fresh start for her. Or at the very least, she hoped going back to her status quo would help to dull that empty feeling she now held in her chest. And it had worked, at first. Catching up on everything had been just the distraction she was looking for, but as time went on and the workload steadied off, it became harder for her to mask all the emotions.

It was something she had done numerous times before. A coping mechanism that as much as she knew how unhealthy it was, she always found herself reverting back to. This time was no different, and Y/n had found herself working herself into the ground. She was doing everything she could to make sure that work was all that could consume her thoughts, which turned out great in the end for Et Cetera. 

Last week, she had received an email from the conglomerate Coty, one of the world’s largest beauty brands, requesting a meeting with her and her lawyers. Obviously, she had been immediately interested, the butterflies in her stomach on full alert even after the meeting had ceased. 

 “Just… think about our offer. We don’t need an answer right away, we understand that this is a big decision for you. We hope to hear from you soon.” Mr. Baltussen, the CPO for Coty, slid her over a copy of his business card along with the legal documents that spelled out their offer. 

“Of course, thank you.” Y/n nodded her head as the small group of executives let themselves out of the conference room. As the door closed behind them, she snapped her head to her lawyer next to her, who already had her nose in the paperwork. 

“What do you think?”

“I think this all looks pretty legitimate. Y/n this is a more than generous offer.” Her lawyer’s eyes quickly scanned the words before flitting up to meet Y/n’s. 

“So you think I should accept it?”

“Honestly?” Y/n nodded, pleading for an honest answer. “Only you can make that decision, but this says to me that no matter what decision you make, you’ll be just fine.”

“Damn, I was hoping for a more definite answer.” She dropped her head into her folded arms on the table top.

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help, but I’m here for you no matter what.” 

 That conversation had been all that she thought about for the rest of the night and was the first thing on her mind when she had woken the next morning. Having the day off, since it was the weekend, meant she had more time to dwell on it. At first, she had been adamant about declining their offer, but the more she thought about it the more appealing it became. After all, her method of shoving everything down to avoid feeling was no longer working for her. Being in Austin, where he also lived, tended to grate on some of her nerves. She often found herself tense when out in public, which she fully understood how irrational it was, afraid that she would run into him somewhere. Her heart just wasn’t ready for that quite yet. Even with her and Jared talking again, things still hurt. He was family and she would never be able to get away from him, but Coty was offering her the ability to get about just as far away as she could from the mess she had created. 

Y/n had pulled her laundry from the drier as she went about doing her weekend chores. She plopped onto the couch with the basket in front of her and turned on the news for some background noise. The program was just finishing up as she paid no attention to it and its switch to Entertainment Tonight. She was just about finished with folding when the host’s words caught her attention. 

“Coming up next, Supernatural star Jensen Ackles and ex fiance Danneel Harris caught cozying up to each other for lunch in downtown LA.” Y/n snapped her head up to the tv and dropped the panties in her hand back into the basket at her feet. She searched blindly for the remote to turn up the tv as the program returned. 

“The two ex lovers were seen having what seemed like a friendly, and funny, lunch together. Could this be the start of a rekindling romance? Only time will tell as their reps declined for comment.” Images of the two flashed across the screen, paparazzi photos of the two of them, both had wide smiles on their faces as they sat next to each other on a patio table. A pair of sunglasses sat on both of their faces, but even she could see the small crinkles around his eyes from that beautiful smile on his face. 

Her heart sank into her stomach as she sat back on her couch and pulled her knees into her chest. All those emotions she had fought so hard to push down were now bubbling back up to the surface and threatening to explode out of her throat in a sob. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes as she fought the stinging in her nose. 

Deep down she knew she had no right to feel the way she was. After all, Jensen had ended things with her, and she certainly didn’t leave the door open for him to come running back in. But all she could think about was his promise to her, his promise that he was over the one woman that had the pleasure of wearing his ring on her finger. The images on her television now told her a different story, though, and that brought up every insecurity in her. 

What was it that Danneel had that she didn’t? There were the obvious physical differences that she wouldn’t even dare to delve into in her fragile state. But what else about her made her more desirable? Was she smarter, funnier, better in the bedroom…

Ugh! Y/n ran her hands through her hair, tugging gently at the roots. She was so far beyond over feeling like this. She was supposed to be better at handling herself when she got this way, but more so, she was supposed to be over comparing herself to other women. It had been so long since she had relapsed like this, and she had reached her breaking point. Y/n was not okay anymore, and she needed help. 

****

Y/n rifled through her living room, tossing pillows and cushions from her couch. She had been so sure that she had left her laptop on the coffee table when she went to bed last night. It was nowhere to be found. Not in her bedroom, living room, not even in her kitchen. 

“Damn it.” she growled to herself. There was no more time to look for it, she had to be at Jared and Gen’s soon, so she would just have to push back this search until later. Quickly she put her house back into a semi clean order and ran out the door. Luckily, her brother didn’t live too far from her and she was still on time when she pulled up in their drive. 

Three little bodies had the front door pulled open before she could even open her car door. “Aunt Y/n!” Odette was the first one out the door. Y/n knelt down in front of her niece, sweeping her up into her arms and squeezing her tight. It had been longer than usual since she had seen Jared and his kids, in person at least. Things were still… tense to say the least between them. They were still working on their issues… slowly. 

Y/n picked up the toddler and made her way inside, hugging the boys as she went. Gen was waiting just inside the door, offering her a tight hug as well. 

“We miss you around here, you know that?” Gen smiled as she let down Odette and the kids ran off to continue what they were doing before she had pulled up. 

“I know. We are getting there.” Y/n agreed, it really had been too long. She missed her family more than she had thought. They had been so close since forever, that she never understood what it was like to be at a distance from them. 

“Then come around more often, please?” Gen urged her sister in law to follow her into the kitchen. 

“Gen,” Y/n tried, casting her glance away from the woman who was pleading with her. That was the last thing she needed to hear right now. “I have some news.” 

“Should I grab Jared…” She started towards the stairs that lead to their second floor before Y/n moved to stop her. 

“No please, just listen.” Gen leaned against the island, giving Y/n her full attention. “I had a meeting on Friday with executives from Coty. They uh,” She chuckled, still in disbelief that this was even happening. “They want to buy my majority shares in Et Cetera.” 

“Wow, Y/n that is huge.” Genevieve’s word’s didn’t match the inflection in her voice or the crease that appeared between her brows. She was just as skeptical as Y/n had been when they first presented her the offer. 

“That’s not all. Coty offered me a VP position where I would be in charge of US operations. My lawyer said it’s a more than generous offer since I get a seven figure salary plus benefits and bonus’, not to mention the money from the sale of my shares.” Y/n played with the fruit in the bowl in front of her. 

“There’s more, isn't there?” The woman was too smart for her own good, Y/n thought to herself. Of course Gen picked up on that fact that she was holding something back. 

“I would need to relocate to New York.” Her face scrunched up as she prepared for some sort of outrage or surprise from Gen, but nothing came. Her next words were softer than she deserved.

“Do you want to accept the offer?” 

“I didn’t, at first.” Y/n admitted. That was the easy part, admitting to what had changed her mind on the other hand would be a lot more difficult, because she didn’t even want to admit it to herself. “But I don’t know now. It feels like everyone around me is moving on with their lives while I’m just stuck on some sort of endless corporate hamster wheel. I don’t feel the excitement for what I do anymore. Hell, I don’t feel anything anymore. Moving to New York could be just what I need.”

“And what about us? What about your family here in Texas.” 

“We have facetime. And I’ll always just be a plane ride away. I mean, it's not like I’m going to Yemen or something. We will have the holidays too.” The catch in her voice broke on her last sentence. She didn’t know who she was trying to convince more, herself or Gen. 

“Is this about Jensen?” Gen stood up straighter, her head cocking slightly as she spoke. 

Y/n huffed, what a stupid question. “Of course it is. He’s clearly moved on, our time together just a distant and horrible memory. Why shouldn’t I be afforded that same luxury?” 

“Come on, you don’t really believe that? Y/n, you have worked so hard for everything you have. And it is all yours, right here in Austin, where your family is too. Why throw all that away over some guy?” Gen’s hand found its way to Y/n’s shoulder, her fingers squeezing the flesh there to try and ground her. She hated seeing her making emotional decisions, especially ones that would affect not only her. 

“Jensen wasn’t just some guy, Gen. But I did lose him, and I’m trying my damndest here to move on, but I just haven’t found the ability to do so yet. That’s all I’m looking for.” Y/n cast her gaze down into her lap, where she was now picking at the cuticle on her thumb. 

“And all I’m saying is, don’t make this kind of decision without talking to the people around you. Get all the perspective you can, because I don’t think you are seeing this clearly right now.” 

“I hear you Gen, but I don’t know if I’ll change my mind again.” Gen nodded her understanding, only wishing she could get through to her sister in law somehow. She pulled her into her chest, hugging her again, because she didn’t know what else she could do. 

Neither of them noticed Jared standing on the landing of the stairs, catching every word his sister uttered. His heart sank as he listened to his sister talk. Never before had he heard the defeat in her voice. Y/n was one of the most strong willed people he knew, but she had just… given up. 

Before now, he hadn’t noticed how far she had fallen. But maybe that was because he wasn’t looking. The two of them didn’t talk like they used to, and right now he was feeling incredibly guilty about that. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Was it because all he could focus on was the steam coming out of his own ears when he found out she had been sleeping with his best friend? Or was it because as much as she chastised him for it, he still saw her as his baby sister and not the independent woman she had become. It was not like her at all to give up on something she had been working so hard towards. Y/n was not the type of woman to balk at money, and she certainly wouldn’t be the one to walk away from her family for any amount of it. 

Jared couldn’t see anymore why he had ever been so adamant that the two of them should not be together. Maybe it was because he knew too many of the intimate details of Jensen’s sex life to think about his sister in that way, or maybe it was even because he thought they wouldn’t be a good match. He could see it now though, having known both of them for so long. Jared shook his head at himself for not seeing truly how much those two were made for each other. He had only stood in their way when he should have been playing matchmaker. After all, didn’t he owe it to two of the most important people in his life to help them find their way to each other?

Jared vowed in that moment, he would fix this. He had to fix this. 

 Meanwhile, in Los Angeles...

The waiter set down their plates in front of them with a quick ‘enjoy’ before running off. Danneel bit into the salad placed in front of her, chewing delicalating as she decided on what to say. 

“You know, I have to say I was surprised you called me.” She thought back to his cryptic text that he had sent. ‘I’m in town and need to talk, can we get lunch?’ was all that it said. He had sent her the name of the cafe when she had agreed on meeting him. The two had exhausted the small talk in the time it took for their food to come and she wanted to get straight to the point. 

“I was too, to be honest. But I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I think you may be one of the few people who can help me.” Jensen took a drink of his water, not looking in her direction. 

“Me? We haven’t exactly been pen pals all this time.” 

“I know, that means you have an outsider's view point on all of this. And you know me better than almost anyone, I trust your opinion.” Jensen stated. Danneel mouthed a ‘wow’ and sat back in her chair, wiping her face with her napkin. 

“This must be big then.” Danneel eyed the man sitting next to her, waiting for him to start with whatever it was he wanted to tell her. 

“God, where do I start, uh… I met this woman.” He began, his hand fiddling with the fork against his plate. 

“Mmmm.” Danneel hummed, the realization finally hitting her. 

“I… she is probably the best thing to ever happen to me. Actually, she’s a lot like you in some ways, brilliant, witty, and beyond beautiful. I fell for her, and I fell hard.” 

“So what is the problem exactly?” 

“I had to break things off with her. I thought what I was doing was best for her and me, but as time has gone on I’m not so sure. I can’t seem to get rid of this churning in my gut.” His tongue jetted out to wet his lower lip as he poured his heart out. This was not an easy thing for him to admit, the last thing he wanted was to hurt Danneel. 

“This girl wouldn’t happen to be Y/n Padalecki, would she?” A small smirk graced her features as Jensen snapped his gaze up to hers. 

“H...How?” 

“Well you weren’t exactly subtle when you ran after her at your birthday. Not to mention both of you were gone for too long and you returned with that little post coitus smirk you tend to get.” Danneel swirled her finger in a circle to emphasize her point. Jensen chuckled under his breath, his head shaking in disbelief. The noise grew in his chest before bubbling up into a full bellied laugh. Danneel couldn’t help but to join in, his laughter having that effect on people. 

“Would you believe that Jared asked me not to get involved with her?” Danneel nodded, she had known Jared for a while, and that did not surprise her at all. “We saw each other behind his back and when he found out, all hell broke loose. The two of them weren’t talking for two weeks.” 

“Oh, Jay…”

“Am I an idiot?” He asked her, his voice soft, as if afraid of her answer. 

“No, you are not an idiot. You’re in love, but you’re not an idiot.” Danneel held out her hand for him across the table. He took it and she squeezed his palm. “Listen, I know what it’s like to walk away from something because it is the best option for both of you, but I also believe that what’s meant to be, will be.”

“What are you saying?” 

“I’m saying if you truly love her and she loves you, you’ll find your way back to each other.” Danneel reiterated. 

“And what if we are too late?” Jensen tried. 

“Then don’t make yourself late. The least you can do is go to her and tell her how you feel. Then it’s in her hands.” 

“You make it sound so easy, Dee.” 

“Oh it’s not.” Danneel dropped his hand. “It’s downright terrifying. But do you want to live your life wondering what if?” Jensen shook his head. “Then go get her.”

Part 24

Forevers: @spn-impala​​ @22sarah08​​ @turtlepad​​ @callmekda​​ @chaldei​​ @hobby27​​ @cowboysnwinchesters​​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @pikabootoyouchu​​ @dawnie1988​​ @grease222​​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @polina-93​​ @clarinette07​​ @moonlight-babeh​​ @suckerforfanfic​​ @witandnargles​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @geeksareunique​ @akshi8278​ @superfanficnatural​ @malfoysqueen14​ @deanwanddamons​ @waywardbeanie​

Et Cetera: @jbbarnesgirl​ @hillface89​ @arses21434​ @thevelvetseries​ @sslater34​ @mrsirishboru​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @spnfamily-j2​ @encounterthepast​ @facadeformyrealblog  @supernatural-bellawinchester​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​​ @rebeccathefangirl​ @squirrelnotsam​ @heartinmyhead1​ @1d-killed-me​ @samsgirl93​ @deans-baby-momma​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @woodworthti666​ @supraveng​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @heartsaved​ @know2grow​ @littlewhiterose​ @surprisinglysarah​ @stoneyggirl​ @carryon-doctor-lock​ @thebookisbtr​ @youaremyfiveever​ @kalesrebellion​ @lilulo-12​ @winchester-fantasies​ @vicmc624​ @supernatural3002​ @winchester-writes​ @maralisa124​ @therollingstoners​ @parinarain​

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

A Helping Hand- Chapter One

◇ Jungkook x reader ◇ Neighbor AU ◇ 5K {1/?}

Summary: The minute the word ‘fuck’ slipped from your daughter’s lips Jungkook saw his life flash before his eyes. He’d been in love with you for a while and the last way he wanted you to find out was by your daughter telling you two to fuck. Seriously he was going to kill Jimin for ever telling her that.

Warnings: Fluff alert

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“Ha-eun, I swear if you unlock that front door, I’ll put you straight in time out.” You warned upon hearing the familiar click of the deadbolt unlocking.

  A second later the sound of it relocking was heard followed by your daughter huffing impatiently. At six years-old Ha-eun already acted like a teenager stifled by their parents’ babying, and while she tested as smarter than those her age, Ha-eun would always remain your little girl. She was the light of your life. One of the few good things to ever happen to you, but that didn’t stop Ha-eun from driving you crazy sometimes.

   “Hurry up, we’re going to be late, mommy!” Ha-eun ordered with a stomp of her foot.

“You did not just stomp your foot at me, young lady.” You called out, putting the finishing touches of your makeup on. Taking one last glance at the mirror to make sure you look as professional as possible, you grabbed your purse and headed to the living room where your  daughter waited expectantly.

   Ha-eun glared at you arms folded over her chest. Her lips pursed together in away that would make the Karen’s of the world jealous. When she finally did grow up, Ha-eun undoubtedly would be a force to be reckoned with. For now though, you couldn’t take her seriously  with her sailor moon backpack and light up shoes. “You took forever getting ready.” Ha-eun bemoaned, “Now Kookie is going to think I’m the reason we’re late.”

  You rolled your eyes. “Well excuse me your majesty. I only woke up, cooked breakfast, cleaned, and  put your hair in bear buns before getting ready for work-which may I remind you pays so we can live here.”

     Ha-eun’s dark eyes narrowed. “I hate it when you use mom-scuses.”

      “So do I, but unfortunately I’m a mom and I kinda like my kid for some reason.”

An exasperated sigh escaped her along with an eye roll. Yup, she definitely was six going on sixteen. “Can we go now? I want to see Kookie.”

  “Wow, I see how loved I am.” You teased unlocking the door. You bit back whatever comment you had about her seeing the young man only yesterday. In all honesty, you couldn’t blame Ha-eun for liking him so much. The boy next door was wonderful in ways that drove you crazy. He personified prince charming, and the girl who won his heart would undoubtedly be the luckiest thing on the planet.

  The thought brought a bitter taste to your mouth, but you pushed it back. As handsome and amazing Jeon Jungkook was, he remained four years your junior. You highly doubted he saw you as anything more than the Noona next door. Moreover Jungkook had unlimited potential to go far in life. Something you gave up when you dropped out of college to raise Ha-eun. “Stop it. There’s no point in thinking about such things.” You murmured slapping your cheeks.

    Ha-eun gave you a curious look. “Thinking about what, mommy?”

You give her a cheesy grin. “Nothing baby, mommy’s being silly.”

“Oh, okay.” Ha-eun said, sounding not entirely convinced. Thankfully she turned her attention to the front door leading to your neighbor’s apartment. “Can I knock now?”

  “Of course, I’m surprised you haven’t yet.” That earned you another eye roll. You swore one day your daughter would get her eyes stuck from rolling them so hard.

  Standing as prim as possible Ha-eun knocked on the door. On the third knock the door swung open to reveal your neighbor dressed in a white shirt and torn jeans. His dark brown hair a messy mop that suggested he had yet to brush it. Your mouth dried at the sight as arousal pooled between your legs. Subsciously you closed them embarrassed by how easily turned on you were.        

    “Ha-eun! (Y/N)! Good to see you this morning.”” he cheered, eyes lighting up. His plush lips split into a wide bunny like smile. It only made your situation worse. Seriously it should be illegal to be this attractive so early in the morning.

   “Jungkook.” You nodded, swallowing back your desire. “Thanks again for helping watch Ha-eun on such short notice. I swear I’ll pay you when I pick her up tonight-”

   He raised a hand silencing you. “Nuh-uh, you know I don’t accept your money. I enjoy hanging out with Ha-eun, she’s the best teammate a guy could ask for.”

   “Yeah, Mom. I’m the best. Last time I helped used my blue shell in Mario Kart to help Kookie defeat Hobi-oppa.” Ha-eun smiled smugly.

    “That’s wonderful, Ha-eun.” You said, attention still focused on the boy. “Seriously though, let me pay you. I mean you are giving up your weekend to play with a six year-old. It can’t be how you wanted to spend your Saturday.”

  Jungkook shrugged, “I’m not really one for socializing. If it weren’t for my old fraternity brothers, work and home would be the only places I’d go to.”

  You smiled, trying to picture Jungkook as a hermit. As much as he claimed not to like people, he certainly had a lot of friends. Ha-eun always mentioned some new person she met while hanging out with her favorite babysitter. “Still...let me do something to repay you. You do so much for us, I feel like I am taking advantage of your kindness.”

   “You’re not, I promise.” He reassured. “But if you really want to repay me...a home-cooked meal would be nice.”

    Your smile widened. Jeon Jungkook really was a saint. “Deal. How does dinner with Ha-eun and I, Monday night sound?”

 “Sounds like my type of evening. I’ll bring dessert-”

You held up your hand, grinning as he blinked surprised. “Don’t you dare. I promised you dinner. Dinner includes desserts, drinks, and anything else edible you can think of.”

    “Alright. I got it. I’ll leave it to you.”  He chuckled, causing your heart to skip a beat. Yeah, you really needed to get laid. Too bad being a single mom puts a damper on that sort of thing.

  “You two are weird.” Ha-eun interrupted. “You should just fuck and get it over with.”

   Words can’t describe the embarrassment that washes over you, as well as the shock of hearing your six year-old say something so vulgar. Not only were you sure your face matched the lipstick you wore, but you no longer knew how to speak. Jungkook’s mouth hung open his tongue running across his bottom lip as if he wanted to say something. He didn’t appear embarrassed like you rather at a loss of what to do.

  ‘He probably doesn’t know how to respond without being rude.’ You lamented to yourself.

Sparing both of you even more embarrassment you turned to your troublemaking daughter. “Ha-eun (L/N), where did you learn such a thing?”

   She shrugged. “Jimin-oppa tells Kookie that all the time. By the way what does fuck mean?”

  “It means you’ll get a mouth full of soap if I ever hear you say that again.” You replied, not in the mood to explain the constructs of sex to your six year-old so soon. “Sorry about that Jungkook-”

    “No, I’m the one who should be apologizing! Jimin-hyung likes to joke around a lot, sometimes he says things without thinking.” Jungkook sputtered. “I promise I’ll have a word with him about it.”

  Ouch...well that hurt. “Please do. I mean I’m sure it’s all guy talk, and Ha-eun is probably supposed to be asleep when you guys talk, but please be more weary.” You lectured in your best mom voice.

    You weren’t too worried about it honestly. You met Jimin before, and knew he wasn’t a bad guy. Moreover you knew Jungkook wouldn’t expose Ha-eun to any bad influences, the young man acted rather protective of your daughter. Just one of the many things that attracted you to him.

     “Of course.” He promised.

“Thank you…” An awkward silence filled the air cueing you to leave. Bending down you kissed the crown of Ha-eun’s head. “I guess I should be off. As always behave. Don’t cause any trouble for Jungkook, you understand? And don’t ever say that word again.”

   Ha-eun gave her signature eye roll. “It would help if I knew what it meant.”

   “Ask me when your fifteen.” You deadpanned. Turning back to Jungkook you offered a small smile. “Thanks again. I really appreciate your help.”

  “Anytime.” He responded. “Like I said I enjoy Ha-eun’s company.”

With one last nod you left trying to ignore the painful pang in your heart. Funny how only a few simple words felt like a total rejection. It wasn’t like you seriously considered dating Jungkook in the first place. He was too young and you needed to focus on Ha-eun. So why did his dismissal hurt so much?

///

Jungkook wanted to die, but not before killing Jimin. He told the blonde time after to watch his mouth, especially when Ha-eun was over. The little girl hated bed-time, and would pop out of nowhere attempting to avoid it. So it came as no surprise she heard something not meant for little ears. It was Jungkook’s luck she heard his best friend advising him to fuck her mother. God...he wouldn’t blame you if you decided not to let him watch Ha-eun anymore.

  “Kookie, are you alright? You look sick.” Ha-eun asked, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re not going to barf are you?”

  “I’m perfectly fine, Ha-eun. No barfing here.” Jungkook reassured, running a hand through his hair. His fingers tangled in its knots only bringing more ire to him. Great not only did Jimin’s mouth get him in trouble, but he looked like a hobo in front of you. What a great way to start the day.

    “Good, because Bon-Hwa threw up last year at school and….” she trailed off, detailing how a classmate barfed everywhere. Normally Jungkook listened to Ha-eun finding her stories quite entertaining, but his current level of self-hatred distracted him. He made a fool of himself in front of the woman he loved. There was no coming back from this.

    “Are you even  listening Kookie?” Ha-eun demanded to know.

  Jungkook turned from his thoughts to see the young girl pouting at him. “Sorry kiddo, wasn’t trying to ignore you.”

     “Uh-huh…” Ha-eun squinted. “You’ve been acting weird since I told mommy to-”

“Why don’t we go to the park? Maybe grandma will be there with Sami today?” Jungkook suggested. On many levels Jungkook considered Ha-eun his own, but that did not mean he wanted to have THE talk with Ha-eun.

  Thankfully it did the trick for Ha-eun ran to get her shoes on, her face beaming with excitement. The white samoyed was the closest thing she had to dog. Often Jungkook and Ha-eun would visit him and his owner (an old neighborhood woman) at the park. There they’d play catch or tug-o-war with Sami, until either Granny or Jungkook decided it was time to go home.  “Do you think I can feed him meat skewers again?!”

   “Ha-eun, we aren’t supposed to feed Sami in the first place.” Jungkook sighed. For such a brilliant girl, Ha-eun didn’t always think things through. He wondered if that was just her age or something she inherited from you. You were kind of scattered brained at times.

   “But Sami was a good dog. Good dogs get treats.” Ha-eun stated.

Jungkook shook his head. “They do, but not with my money okay?”

   The (h/c) haired ��girl shrugged, but said nothing more. She was definitely plotting something though. “Ready Kookie?”

    “Ready.” Jungkook smiled, taking her hand. It always amazed him how full of life Ha-eun was. You would think someone so small would tire easily, but Ha-eun had a thirst for life that neither naptime or bedtime could quench. She was truly something.

//

   "We need more bread! Kookie loves bread." Ha-eun ordered, dissatisfied with the small amount placed on the table. The small girl decided to take it upon herself to ensure that tonight's dinner was nothing less than spectacular. Granted Ha-eun didn't cook a damn thing, but she did boss you around every chance possible.

  Normally you wouldn't condone such behavior, but the nerves for tonight reframed you from parenting duties. Ever since Saturday things between Jungkook and you have been awkward. Neither of you could really look each other in the eyes, let alone speak. In fact you were sure dinner would've been cancelled if not for Ha-eun excitedly reminding Jungkook about it the other day. The young man was a sucker for Ha-eun, and refused to upset her

  The doorbell rang jolting you to attention. Ha-eun let out a gleeful cry, "He's here. He's here!"

 Like Saturday morning you heard the familiar jiggling of locks along with the scraping of a chair being moved. "Ha-eun (L/N), we've talked about this. " You called out.

    "But it's Kookie!" She wailed.

"I don't care if it's Santa Claus himself, you do not open the front door without me. " You replied, walking over to the door. Ha-eun pouted, but wisely chose to keep her mouth shut. "And stop standing on chairs. They're for sitting not standing."

  "Okay moooom, can I open the door now?" Ha-eun pleaded.

 Shaking your head, you waved her off the chair. You unlocked the deadbolt, allowing Ha-eun to do the rest. The girl practically slammed the door open, startling both you and a well-dressed Jungkook behind it.  "Kookie!" Ha-eun launched herself at him, ignoring the shocked expression on his face.

   "Ha-eun!" Jungkook smiled, catching her with ease. His eyes yet again alit at the sight of her. It was the type of look you used to imagined Ha-eun's father giving, before everything went to hell: a look of love and pure adoration. The type of fatherly expression Ha-eun deserved.

   “Jungkook, I’m glad you could make it.” You greeted, pushing back the bittersweet feeling rummaging around your heart. Jungkook was not Ha-eun’s father. He was a kind neighbor boy who you needed to stop pushing your creepy emotions onto.

   Jungkook’s smile lessened a little as he shifted Ha-eun in his arms. “Noona, it’s good to see you. I wouldn’t miss Ha-eun for the world or your food.”

    You forced a smile. “Well, come in. Dinner’s about ready, I hope you like curry-”

“You’ve brought me flowers, Kookie?!” Ha-eun squealed. She pointed at a colorful bouquet of flowers on the ground. Their petals tousled from their inevitable drop when Jungkook caught her.

  “Crap-I mean darn it. They’re not supposed to look like that.” Jungkook muttered to himself as you picked it up.

   A giggle escaped you. “’I’m sure they weren’t expecting to get dropped in exchange for an excited six year-old. Besides…” You smelled them. “They’re still lovely.”

   The corners of his eyes crinkled as he gave a toothy grin. “I’m glad you like them. You said not to bring anything edible so I thought these might do.”

  "They're perfect. " You grinned, clutching the bouquet. How long had it been since you got flowers?

    “Hey! What about me?” Ha-eun protested.

Jungkook cocked an eyebrow. “Who?"

   Ha-eun stomped her foot thoroughly annoyed. "Me. Ha-eun! Your favorite person."

   You snorted. Ha-eun certainly didn't like anyone taking her Kookie's attention, but her. Hopefully it didn't develop into a thing when she got older. Maybe you spoiled her too much.

   "Aish...I haven't forgotten about you, kiddo. " he chuckled, pulling out a packet of butterfly hair clips from his pocket. "These are actually from Jimin. He wanted to say sorry for his potty mouth."

  She glanced over the packet, brows furrowed as they always did when Ha-eun made decisions. Jungkook and you shared a look, both you trying not to laugh. After a minute of contemplation Ha-eun hugged the packet to her chest. "I forgive him, but next time tell him I take cash-"

   "Ha-eun!" You said as Jungkook howled with laughter. Your cheeks burned bright red. Really? Where did this girl come up with these things? "The correct response is apology accepted and thank you. "

   "I don't know, Noona. I think I like hers better. "

  "Don't encourage her. She needs to learn manners. "

  "I hate manners." Ha-eun chimed.

"Well, you need them soooo you're stuck." You said, rolling your eyes. You definitely needed to stop spoiling that girl - Jungkook too.  "Now why don't you two wash up, while I set the table?"

  "Okay, come on Kookie, race you to the bathroom!" Ha-eun challenged taking off.

  Jungkook ran after her. "Hey you cheated!"

Once again you smiled listening to the two argue as you set the table. In the very center of it sat the crumpled flowers looking prettier than any bouquet you've seen before.

    Thankfully the rest of the night went smoothly. Any and all awkwardness between you and Jungkook seemingly vanished. Ha-eun even managed to convince you two to watch a movie afterwards, despite her usual eight O' clock bedtime. Overall the night ended well with Jungkook carrying a sleepy Ha-eun to bed as you cleaned.

 //

   “I swear if you don’t fuck him, I will.”  

A groan escaped you at your best friend’s declaration. Hyuna was definitely the female version of Jimin if the blonde hair, cat-like appearance and salacious appetites said anything about them. Though unlike Jimin, you knew  Hyuna meant every word said.  

  “What does that have to do with anything I said?” You questioned, eyebrow raised.

 Hyuna  gave you a look. It was the same look Ha-eun often did whenever she thought you were stupid. “The boy’s best friend suggest you two should fuck. What more is there, (Y/N)? I mean I know it’s been a while, but it’s not like you’re virgin naive to all things sex.”

     “He was joking. You know being stupid. Jungkook said-”

“Jungkook lied. Men lie. Especially when they don’t think they have a chance.” Hyuna said. “Besides he brought you flowers, (Y/N)! Flowers! No uninterested man brings a woman flowers. What more of a hint do you need?”

     “Right, because it’s not social etiquette to bring some to dinner.” You pointed out, steadying the tray of drinks in your hand. As giddy as the thought of Jungkook actually liking you was you couldn’t allow yourself such hope. After all it was only a matter of time before Jungkook met someone through work or friends and moved on with his life.

   Hyuna smacked your head nearly causing you to drop the tray. “What the fuck-”

     “That’s for being stupid. First about the flowers, then about whatever stupid shit is running through your brain right now.”  

  You shot her a glare, but said nothing. Sometimes it scared you how easily Hyuna could read your thoughts. Honestly you weren’t entirely sure she wasn’t a mind reader. “Look, I don’t want to discuss this anymore. Jungkook is young, he has a lot going on for himself. I don’t-”

    Hyuna raised her hand. “Keep talking shit about yourself, I dare you.”

 This time you smiled shaking your head. Hyuna was the best friend you could have ever asked for. "Fine. Have it your way but I'm telling you now Jungkook is merely a kind guy. "

   "And I'm a natural blonde. " Hyuna snorted, but left it be. "Anyway if not Jungkook, then what about Seokjin? He's hot, our age, and you are totally his favorite employee."

   "You did not just tell me to fuck our boss!"

   Hyuna giggled, walking off with her tray. "Come on (Y/N). You got to get it somewhere. Why not let the owner of Eat Jin eat you? "

  You stared at her, mouth slightly ajar. That's it. Hyuna wasn't the best friend ever, she was the worst. "I swear she's more concerned about my sex life than I am."

 Hours passed with the breakfast rush ending pretty well. Tips were slightly above average, the customers managed to be bearable, time seemed to go by fast and now you were folding silverware waiting for lunch to start. Overall, the day was going to be a good one.

 "(Y/N), you got a phone call. " your boss Seokjin said, holding the phone out. "It's your neighbor, Jungkook. Something about Ha-eun. "

   You brow furrowed as you grabbed the phone. It was a Thursday afternoon. Ha-eun was at school. So why would Jungkook call you about Ha-eun at work nonetheless?

 “Hello?”

    “(Y/N), thank god. I tried calling your cell phone, but you weren’t answering so I called your work-” Jungkook’s panicked voice came over the phone. “Listen, I need you not to panic, but Ha-eun had an accident at school. She hit her head falling off the jungle gym. The school said she was alright, but they took her to the hospital just in case.”

     “Wait what? No. No. Ha-eun can’t be in the hospital, I would know if she was. They would’ve called me-”

    “(Y/N), they tried reaching you on your cell phone, but couldn’t so they called me next. Look, I just left work I can pick you in fifteen minutes and take you to the hospital.”

   You barely heard his words, your mind racing with horrid images of Ha-eun hurt. How bad was it? Was she crying for you? Did she need stitches? Why weren’t you there right now?

    “No. I need you to go straight to the hospital.” You spoke without thinking. “It’ll take too long if you get me, and Ha-eun needs someone right now. Even if I leave right away, you’ll still be closer. Please Jungkook, you’re the only one I trust with Ha-eun.”

      “...I understand. I’ll go straight to Ha-eun.”

  You sighed, feeling a little of your panic dissipate. “Thank you. I’ll be right there. I’m going to catch a cab right now.”

   “Don’t. Ask Jin-Hyung for a ride instead. He’ll bring you here in one piece, if not I’ll kick his ass .” Jungkook said, growling the last bit. “And (Y/N), don’t worry I’ll take good care of our Ha-eun until you get here.”  

  He hung up leaving you with questions, thoughts, and more importantly ⁸a feeling of reassurance.

//

  Jungkook had forgotten he was on Ha-eun's emergency contact list. You had placed him on it last winter when Ha-eun gotten the flu. It was only supposed to be a temporary thing until you found a more suitable contact, and seeing how Jungkok never received a call he figured you eventually did find someone else ...never had he been more glad to be wrong in his life.

  “Ha-eun! I’m here for Ha-eun (L/N), her school called me.” Jungkook said as he burst through the emergency room. His heart raced against his chest as if he ran a marathon. He must’ve looked like a mad man, but Jungkook didn’t care, he needed to find Ha-eun.

  “Sir, can you please calm down. I’ll be more than happy to direct you." The woman at the front said.

  Jungkook clenched his fists. "Calm down? My kid is in the hospital. Don't tell me to calm down!"

 "I understand. There are a lot of people here with someone they love in the hospital. That doesn't mean you can freak out-”

    “I swear to god if you don’t tell me where Ha-eun (L/N) is…” Jungkook growled, not bothering to finish his sentence. Never before in his life did Jungkook think about threatening a woman, but in this moment all he was beyond tempted too.

   The receptionist glared at him. She looked ready to argue, when her co-worker intervened. “For God’s sake Haneul tell him where his daughter is.”

     Hanuel frowned her dark eyes boring holes into him. “Room 23. It’s down the hall on the right.”

   Jungkook let out a sigh of relief. He murmured a quick ‘thank you’ aimed at Hanuel’s co-worker who waved him off, then spun in the direction told. Thankfully it wasn't long before he saw Ha-eun's teacher Ms. Kim sitting outside a room.  "Mr. Jeon. I'm glad you're here!" she greeted. "Ha-eun's inside. Everything is alright for the most part-"

   Jungkook barely spared her a glance as he opened the door to Ha-eun's room. Instantly he was greeted by the sight of Ha-eun trembling on the hospital bed , her little hands gripping the blanket tightly as a doctor leaned over inspecting the nasty gash on her forehead. "Told you already Ms. Kim,  family only." the doctor paused staring at him. "You're not Ms. Kim. Who are you?"

   "I am-"

"Kookie!" Ha-eun cried, arms outstretched towards him.  "Kooookie!"

  Jungkook scooped her up in his arms, ignoring the doctor's protest. She buried her head  in his chest, tiny fingers tangled themselves in his shirt as she sobbed. "It's okay, Ha-eun. I'm here now. Your Kookie's here. "

  "Sir, if you don't tell me who you are I'll have to call security. " the doctor, a balding middle aged man, warned.

 Jungkook shot him a glare. Barely a minute had passed and already he can't stand this guy's guts.  What was with this hospital and its staff? "If you don't tell me what's wrong with my kid, you'll need to. "

  The doctor relaxed not even questioning Jungkook's words. "Your daughter fell off the playground and hit her head. She has a minor gash that'll need stitches and we have some tests to run for safety, but as of now there are no complications. "

  "Thank God. " Jungkook sighed, holding her closer. Never has he felt so scared or relieved as he did today. Even now it felt like Ha-eun could slip through his arms at any moment.

  "Thank God indeed. Now if you don't mind Mr.."

  "Jeon."

 "Jeon? Must be divorced. " the doctor muttered. Again Jungkook's dislike for the man grew.  "Anyway as I said previously Mr. Jeon, your daughter needs stitches. We'll numb the area around the wound to prevent any pain, but I'm sure Ha-eun would like her dad around when it happens. "

  "Of course. " The words slipped out of his mouth before Jungkook could stop himself. Deep down he knew he should probably insist on waiting until you came. You were Ha-eun's actual parent after all. He was simply the next door neighbor who occasionally watched Ha-eun.

  The thought didn't last long as the doctor approached with a syringe. Ha-eun let out a terrified sob turning into further into his chest shutting up any doubts he had.   "Noo...I don't want a shot. No shots please!" Ha-eun begged.

Gently Jungkook stroked her head, wary of the cut above her forehead. "Ha-eum. You need it to get better. "

  "But I don't want a shot, Kookie. Shots scare me. " Ha-eun cried, clinging tighter to him.

  Jungkook felt his heart squeeze from terror in her voice. It pained him so much to see Ha-eun like this.  He honestly didn't know how you could handle taking her to the doctor, especially to get a shot. If it were up to him, Ha-eun would never get one.

   "Ha-eun, sweetie, look at me." Jungkook said, guiding her gaze to him. "I know shots are scary, but I need you to be for me. I know you can do it, because you're my tough girl right?"

  "Uh huh. " Ha-eun nodded, wiping her nose with her sleeve. "You won't leave though Kookie? Promise you'll stay?"

     Jungkook smiled. "I'm not going anywhere. You can even squeeze my hand if it makes you feel better, okay?"

Ha-eun nodded placing her tiny hand into his larger one. "Kookie? Can we get ice cream after this? Mommy always takes me for icecream after shots."

    "Ha-eun, we'll go anywhere you want once the doctor is done. " Jungkook swore. She could ask to go to Disneyworld for all he cared. Whatever Ha-eun wanted she would get.

  The doctor loomed over her hand raised like the villain in some horror movie. "You'll feel a  little pinch but that's all."

    Ha-eun whimpered clutching onto Jungkook who gently rubbed her back. Thankfully the doctor was quick in his work only taking a few seconds to numb the cut. When he finished Jungkook let go a breathe he didn't know he was holding. The doctor smiled. "There. Not too bad, huh? Now onto the stitches!"

///

 Kim Seokjin knew Jungkook since the boy was ten years old. They grew up in the same neighborhood together and Jungkook often tagged along with Jin wherever he went. In college,  Jin acted as Jungkook's mentor/ big brother in their fraternity. Overall Jungkook was a little brother to Jin.

  Which was why he could not believe his eyes upon seeing Jungkook act so grown up around you and your daughter. Jin didn't mean to be nosy. It just kind of happened. After dropping you off at the front entrance,  Jin decided to make sure you and your daughter were alright. He expected to find Jungkook out in the waiting room not protectively hovering over Ha-eun and you. His arm wrapped around your waist in a half hug comforting you as the doctor performed stitches on Ha-eun.

  If possible Jin's heart exploded in pride. His little Jungkookie all grown up. "She's okay. No signs of concussion, but they need to do some tests. " Jungkook murmured.

   You shook a little but no tears or cries came out.  Undoubtedly if not for Ha-eun's sake. "Thank God. When you called I was so scared. I immediately thought the worst. "

    Jungkook rubbed your back soothingly. "I promise she's okay, (Y/N).  She might have a mean cut but our Ha-eun is strong, she'll bounce back quick."

    Our Ha-eun. Jin snorted at this. Out of everyone in their friend group Jungkook was one of the last they suspected to have kids. It wasn't that he didn't like them. More like there were other more kid oriented people like Taehyung or Jin himself. In fact they used to picture Jungkook as a permanent bachelor especially given his fear of women. However it appeared they guessed wrong. Ha-eun had Jungkook wrapped around her little finger.

   "Thank you, Jungkook, for everything. If you hadn't picked up when the school called or called my work I don't know what I'd do." You said looking down. "You even came here when you didn't have to. "

    "You thank me too much. I  did what anyone else would do. " Jungkook replied.

   You shook your head. "No you did not. I'm going to repay this time, Jeon Jungkook, I swear. "

   Unfortunately Jungkook's response got muddled under a sharp cry from Ha-eun. Both of your attention turned on the young girl conversation forgotten as you two comforted her. From the outside looking in, the three of you looked like a real family, but then again you weren't you?

     A few hours passed since the familial scene and Jin waited patiently for the doctor to release Ha-eun. He knew there was no real reason to wait. Neither you nor Jungkook knew about him waiting after all. If anything you probably thought he drove back to the restaurant already. Still Jin couldn't help but wait if only to talk to Jungkook for a little bit.

"I didn't know that the (Y/N) you always talked about was my (Y/N)." Jin hummed, leaning back against the plastic chair.    

   Ha-eun's scans thankfully showed no complications. She did have a slight concussion but after a couple hours of observation the doctor deemed it okay to go home. The only thing left now was some paperwork.

   "She's not your (Y/N), hyung." Jungkook grouched pushing his hair back.. "Besides I told you plenty of times you just forget because of your old age. "

   He was surprised by Jin's presence thinking he simply dropped (Y/N). However given his Hyung's kind nature it wasn't too shocking. Undoubtedly the older man worried about his best employee.

Jin sighed dramatically. "The disrespect I get after all those years of raising you on my back. How did you end up so poorly?"

   Jungkook rolled his eyes. "Throwing a tantrum isn't going to help your cause, hyungnim."

   "No, but maybe telling (Y/N) about the time you passed out naked will." Jin threatened silencing him.  

   Three years ago Jungkook passed out drunk at a fraternity party. When he woke up the next day Jungkook found himself tied to the house's flagpole naked. A lesson from his brothers for being so stupid.  It was the last time he ever got wasted. "You wouldn't dare." Jungkook growled.

  Jin grinned challenging the maknae to try him. "Would you rather I tell her about how you jumped out a window to avoid a love confession?"

  "You weren't even there, hyung! How can you tell her a second hand story." Jungkook frowned, nose wrinkling.

  Jin laughed. "Jimin recanted the story very well. I feel like I was there when it happened. Besides you were always so scared around girls, it's not hard picturing it."

  Jungkook rolled his eyes ignoring the embarrassment welling up in him. In general Jungkook fell shy around new people, hence his habit to hide behind his hyung as a teen. However women were the worst. "I've grown up hyung. I'm not the scared little kid I used to be. "

     "I know. " Jin replied staring fondly at the boy. "You've grown up so much Jungkookie. I see it in the way you care for (Y/N) and her daughter. You're an adult now which is why I think you should admit your feelings to (Y/N). You both deserve it."

[tvdversefanfiction]

Forget me Not

Chapter 2 - Remember My Name

Warnings: I do not own nor do I claim to own any of the material, characters, or storylines from within the TVDverse. I am not making any profit from this, this is purely a passion project, from one to other fans who are willing to read.

15+: May contain moderate to strong language, sexual innuendos, and sexually charged scenes. Moderate to strong descriptions of violence, gore, torture, and practices of witchcraft.

F/F, F/M, M/M, GEN, + OTHER

Chapter 1 Already Gone

So, the plan, if you were wondering, to beat the hollow and reunite the Mikaelson siblings turned out to be painfully simple so painfully simple it should have been our first option but in fairness, one should never cast a spell until they have learned everything about the spell their casting, a lesson I learned many years ago.

Elijah, Klaus, Kol, and Rebekah, reunited with their eldest sibling Freya within the family compound in New Orleans, Elijah's memories now restored making all four of them ready to get rid of the hollow for good and after giving the siblings a few minutes to catch up with each other and share their stories from the past nine years in which they were all apart, the plan was ready to be put into motion.

At first, I was stricken by shock and disbelief as like their brother Elijah, neither Klaus, nor Kol, or Rebekah, seemed to remember anything about me looking at me like a stranger and not somebody who had shared his life with them, it was as if all memory of me had been taken from them or perhaps they had just lived such a long and intriguing life since we had last met that I had been entirely forgotten.

I was all but numb by their forgetfulness even though it did make me more curious that not a single memory of my existence was remembered by any of them, no one's lack of memory hurt me more than Elijah's, I could understand Rebekah and Kol not remembering me, God even Klaus, but not Elijah, not after everything he had done for me.

But I was not there to be reunited with old friends nor was I there to look back on the past, no, I was there to get rid of the hollow and then and only then could I investigate their confusing case of amnesia that seemed to only be related to me.

I had each Mikaelson bring a newbie vampire of their own making, four strangers I did not give much thought, nor did I give a damn about their fates, and I ushered the four Mikaelson's to stand in front of their creations, one by one until there was a line of Elijah, Klaus, Kol, and Rebekah, and a line consisting of the four new-born vampires, and then Freya and myself began the spell to extract the hollow from her siblings, putting into the newbie immortal beings, and then proceeded to kill the four vampires, sacrificing them to eliminate the hollow and reunite the original family.

Yes, those four strangers who I and Freya killed could have been complete innocents or they could have been worse monsters than those I was helping but I did not care, I had lived too long a life to be affected by a stranger's death or to cry about spilled blood. I am far from innocent, and I care for only a few so when that few need me, I would wipe out an entire city to help them out.

After all, humans are born to die whereas creatures like myself were born to live forever.

After the deed was done and the hollow was gone, I took myself to the nearest bar I could find so I could drown my sorrows over being forgotten by the only people in the world I thought truly knew me, the closest bar being Rousseau's.

"What can I get you?" Asked the largely too chipper bartender.

"Vodka," I answered him as I sat down at the bar. "Just leave the bottle."

"I guess it's been one of those days!" He responded as he handed me a bottle of their finest vodka. "It's been one of those days for a lot in this city my friends included but hey we almost got a decade of peace, so I guess chaos was long overdue."

"I did not come here to get to know the bartender." I snapped, making it clear he was not about to make a new friend in me.

"No, you came to help aid the Mikaelson family reunion which will more than likely kickstart another war sooner rather than later." He revealed as I realized this man clearly had an ear to the ground when it came to things that went on in his city. "What I want to know is which Mikaelson made a friend out of you my money is not on Klaus maybe Rebekah definitely not Kol."

"Who remembers?" I mumbled with a sense of bitterness as I took a drink from the bottle of vodka. "You must be one of Marcellus' minions' rumor has it he's not too happy about his beloved Rebekah running back to the family that wronged him so many times."

"You know the Mikaelsons and Marcel? I'm nobody's minion unless they get all murderous then I'm anybody's just to stay alive but I'm sure not playing in their games even if my best friend is now married to Kol." He went on to tell me. "My name is Josh and I know you're like the original heretic or whatever but what is your actual name?"

"So, your best friend must be the harvest girl turned super witch Davina Claire, I have heard of her, just like I have heard of Marcel, but I have never met either. As for the Mikaelsons, it seems they have completely forgotten me." I decided to answer him, not knowing why I was divulging any information for some undead bartender. "My name is Salem Helsing, everybody always knows about the legend of me, but they never get my name right."

"Do not tell me you are related to Van Helsing, the prince of darkness' ultimate nemesis? The guy Wolverine from X-Men played in that movie that was criminally underrated?" He questioned me with a sense of excitement, a sense that I knew all too well whenever anybody heard my last name for the first time.

"Dracula's nothing but a myth, a legend, a story, but Van Helsing, he was my father, is my father," I replied, admitting for the first time in a long time who my father was, as I took a bigger drink from my bottle of vodka.

"The Mikaelsons knew the son of Van Helsing himself and yet they do not remember you? Something tells me your memory was either replaced with something almost as awesome as the heretic son of one of the most famous hunters or some witch probably spelled the memories away." Josh said, his words making more sense than any other words I had heard in days. "Wait, so you are telling me Dracula is not real?"

"The only thing I know that my father hunts is me," I admitted to him. "In my entire existence, I have never once been forgotten, feared, loathed, and despised sure, but never forgotten…"

"And that annoys you more than anything doesn't it? Which one of the Mikaelson's were you in love with? Clearly, you're nursing a broken heart here and you would not be the first in this bar to find themselves in need of a drink after a rendezvous with that family." Josh responded all too correctly for my liking.

"You are smarter than you look, Josh," I replied while attempting to change the subject as I stood up from my chair. "Too friendly for my liking and that quality is definitely going to get you killed but I cannot deny my hope you last at least a century or two."

"So, which one?" He asked again, eager for my answer, one I was not willing to give and so instead I just walked out ready to leave this city for good and never look back but fate itself had other plans for me.

I never got far from that bar before Klaus Mikaelson vamp sped his way in front of me within the streets of New Orleans and I recall briefly hoping that at that moment he had remembered me, that they had all remembered me but of course, it was not his memory that made him seek me out but instead of his curiosity or better put paranoia.

"So, what the hell is this newfound freedom going to cost me?" Klaus asked me abruptly. "And do not say it's free because I have heard of your help, and it always comes at great cost.

"You seriously do not remember me?" I replied in complete disbelief, stunned to think he somehow knew of me yet did not remember me. "Am I the biggest fool to think that maybe just maybe our history together would be remembered even if a few centuries passed? God, I dreaded so much about seeing you again, I thought you would hate me, or I'd hate you, or that the past would just remain in the past, but I never thought for a single moment that you would not even remember me!"

"I think all those years not quite being a witch or a vampire has truly warped your mind because neither myself nor my siblings have any recollection of you, and I'd think I would remember someone like you if we had met," Klaus responded making it clear to me once and for all I had been completely forgotten. "However, crazy, or not you helped reunite me with my family and for that, I am in your debt, so name your price, I could pay for your therapy perhaps?"

"I was simply returning a favor for someone I once thought I knew and either way that favor has been returned so we are done here," I told him as I attempted to hide the hurt within my eyes, the pain on my face, and the fact that his words had just broken my non-beating heart.

"Why does this not feel like it's over?" Klaus asked me, as untrusting as he always was as if I could even answer his question when I was beginning to question everything myself.

Before I could conjure up any words for a response to the original hybrid himself, Elijah sped his way onto the street's vampire style and was now standing side by side with his brother.

"Salem Helsing!" Elijah said, surprising me with his greeting, only to surprise me further when he rushed over to hug me tightly. "I remember you now and I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for me and my family."

As if this visit to New Orleans had not surprised me enough just when I was beginning to accept the fact I was nothing to a family I once loved like my own, just when I was giving up all hope, Elijah had miraculously remembered me, and as he continued to hold me tightly in his arms, I realized I was a fool to ever think I meant nothing, at least to Elijah anyway and his arms I began to break down. I cried with such great relief that Elijah had found me again that I had found him, that we had found each other and after all these years he was back in my life, and now he had returned to me, there was no way in hell I was ever going to lose him again!

[imaginesforthosewhoseekthem]

yo! for the dark au, greed would probably be my biggest sin, so how would things go if mammon was puppeteering the mc??

((TIME FOR THE BBY! Honestly, if any of em are gonna go crazy or yandere, it’ll probably be Mammon.

I don’t THINK I need to put in a spoiler warning but just in case MAYBE SPOILERS))

When he Controlled You:

It was a hard pill to swallow, having to tell Mammon you had to go back to the human world.

He was in complete and utter denial about it. He needed you to himself and ONLY himself. No other stinking humans deserved you.

You tried comforting him, but it was no use. He just couldn’t accept it.

He asked one thing of you before you left…if you would sleep in his room that night. How could you say no? You either adored Mammon or you knew he’d annoy you til you agreed.

As he cuddled up to you in his bed, you could hear him whisper to you.

“I wish you could just stay down here forever…Then you could be my human…ONLY my human til the end of time…You’re in luck though. I found a way to do it..!” he said, using his demon spell to freeze you in place. 

Mammon may not be the brightest, but if he was passionate about something, be it money or you, he would take the time to learn magic for it.

Just before he took control, he said with only a small hint of regret…just a small one. “I’m sorry to do this to ya, but I can’t just sit down here and let OTHER humans have ya! You’re MY human! I was your first demon and intend to keep it that way. I hope you understand. I just GOTTA have you all to myself. You know me, Avatar of Greed and all that jazz.” he said, smirking a bit before the spell as cast.

While Under his Control:

Kinda like Belphie, Mammon would keep you hidden, mostly in his car.

However, knowing how stupid he was, he was bound to get caught with you eventually.

It was a lot harder to make the brothers believe him that you wanted to stay…but how could they argue when you told them yourself?

Mammon knew you better than any other demon. He loved you more than anything. Of course he would get your characteristics right..as long as he didn’t overdo it with saying how great he was, but this was one of few times he was smarter than that.

Lucifer or even Satan weren’t so easily convinced, but no matter what, they couldn’t argue if it came from you.

The brothers found it even fishier when you ONLY spent time with Mammon and not any of them. As much as it killed him to do it, he told you to spend time with him and that if you gave ANY indication that you were under his control, he would make you come right back to his room so he could punish you.

He never used you to fight, unlike his brothers. You were his human. you’re fragile and soft. He’s protecting YOU. He does give you a suit/dress that looks like his demon form too though, more for his own enjoyment.

He always broke the trance to hold you and praise you over the fact you were his forever. He often cuddled you real close whenever he slept by you because the idea of you leaving his side, made him think you would also leave him for good…unless of course you needed the bathroom.

He would occasionally get you to steal things for him as your punishment. Sometimes you’d get away with it because you could be more discreet, but because MAMMON controls you, you get caught. You have to deal with Lucifer’s lectures instead. It’s handy for him in places he can’t go due to spells.

If the brothers get onto him more, it’ll probably be like in  “One Too Many Insults”, only this time, he runs away with you. He’s even more likely to not come back at the idea you’ll be taken away from him. If he does return or not, its up to you…not the MC you, but the READER you.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.21

Tense. Things at home were tense. Lance had muttered about needing to go shopping, then left. Keith knew when to bite his tongue, and this was definitely a time for tongue biting. Wanting to do something helpful Keith put his mind to cleaning. Not like in-depth cleaning, but enough to be counted as an effort around the house. That meant first he had to find everything, then he had to argue with the washing machine as he tried to figure the damn thing out as he didn’t know if sheets were washed on the same cycle setting as clothes... if they weren’t before, they were now. Blue had acted like it was the end of the world once the vacuum cleaner went on, dramatically running from the living room so fast she skidded. Adam would have been proud of him. As was every foster family he’d never fit in with. Sure, he had anger issues, but he wouldn’t have anger issues if people stopped making him angry.

Keith got less done than he’d set out to accomplish. Barely finishing the first floor before there was the sound of a car horn out the front, the approach drowned out by Lance’s ancient vacuum that would have been tossed out long ago if Adam had seen the device. Adam really did have the one functioning brain cell between him, Shiro and Keith. The hunter knew it was unhealthy to hold onto things, Adam had died over a year ago now, but he and Shiro together had been the best family Keith had ever had. Shiro never treated him like a legacy. The child of a hunter who’s name carried far too much weight. Since being accepted into the Order and beginning his training as a cadet, he’d lived in the shadow of the great werewolf hunter Krolia. He understood why she had to leave him, why she did fought as she did, but... Shiro and Adam felt more like family to him than she did. Krolia was... she was... it was heavy to think about her accomplishments. Stowing the vacuum back in the laundry, Keith rushed back through the house, trying not to appear like he cared whether Lance was alright or not... because he didn’t.

Heading out, Lance was standing at the back of his bronco, trunk door open

“Help me carry stuff”

Lance wasn’t supposed to be doing anything exerting like carrying in the whole damn shop from the look of it

“Did we really need so much stuff?”

“Not supposed to go out, remember. So I stocked up. Before you bite my head off, I didn’t go shopping alone. I found my phone in the car and shot Hunk a message”

“You... talked to Hunk?”

“Am I not allowed?!”

The snappiness in Lance’s tone kind of hurt, as did the fact Lance had talked to Hunk before they’d had a chance to talk about their situation

“I’m not saying that. I’m just wondering what... It’s none of my business”

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have snapped. I told him Mami had a fall, well, Miriam had a fall and I was in Platt due to it. He went a little crazy shopping”

“So you’re blaming Hunk for this?”

They needed a whole army to eat the amount of food in the back of the bronco. Lance sighed as he passed Keith the first bag

“He’s a good man. I really do think he and Pidge are both interested in you, as in being friends. Sorry, can we save talking until we’re back inside. I want to wallow a little longer”

“Alright... but don’t think you’re getting out of this”

“I wouldn’t dream of it”

*

People were exhausting. Hunk was one of those people. He was a natural born worrier who’d worried the moment he showed up. Lance was pulled into a tight hug, hiding his discomfort as he was. Normally he loved Hunk’s hug, but he couldn’t tell him the truth and it sucked big hair testicles. Repeatedly trying to redirect the conversation from him, Hunk kept bringing up how unwell Lance looked and how he needed to eat more. Yeah. He did. But looking at all the food in the supermarket isles made him sick. It fed the knot of anxiety that’d settled in his gut. He was changing for the worse, and there was no way to back out of it now. When Matt came, everything would change again. Pidge would be over the moon to see her brother again, while Matt would be terrified of one wrong move exposing his secret. Secrets sucked. They festered like wounds. Growing and spreading that infection until you felt physically ill.

Settling down with a cup of coffee, like a normal human would, Lance stared into the cup as Keith put things away. Lance wanted to take control, he wanted to take back some kind of order in his life, yet with Keith living there, he needed to loosen up. Keith needed to know where things went and how to navigate his kitchen beyond how to use the coffee machine. Keith really seemed to like his coffee. He wasn’t so fond of broccoli, or corn for that matter, but he also never really complained about eating anymore... provided he could hover while Lance he cooked, still kind of paranoid Lance was going to poison him or something. If he was going to do that, he would taken care of Keith the second Shiro was clear of the picture.

“You look pale. Do you need blood?”

Keith’s question took Lance by surprise. He never hid his drinking blood from his friends, but they thought he was simply indulging in red wine. Keith had seen him drink, and extremely embarrassingly vulnerable. He’d swallowed down that blood bag at VOLTRON with no worries thanks to how hungry he was... So why was it now he was feeling self conscious thanks to Keith asking? And why were his teeth almost throbbing at the idea? It would be a blood bag like the rest of the times he fed, having Keith there was not his ticket to a fresh meal because he didn’t want a fresh meal. That’d mean only submitting to his vampire way

“Not yet”

“Coran said you need to keep your strength up”

“Since when did you care?”

Keith placed down the box of cereal he’d been trying to find a home for

“Since I don’t run away from mistakes I’ve made”

Ouch. Yeah. Keith had fucked up, but he was kind of trying... but only because he felt obligated too. Obligations sucked. Lance knew he was only a job to Keith, but “mistake” struck like a bullet to the heart

“Dude, ouch”

“I... I mean. I take responsibility for my actions. You’re changing because of me. We can’t ignore it”

“I can try”

Keith slammed his plan down on the kitchen bench with enough anger that Lance felt himself jump

“Why?! Why do you that? You said nothing to Luis. You didn’t try defending yourself. You didn’t ask to be turned”

He really hadn’t. He’d been such a lonely kid, he always seemed to have plenty of people around him, but he’d always felt so filled with faults that he kept messing up his friendships. Every month he seemed to have a new best friend who’d leave him to play with someone cooler and smarter than he was. Someone who better at games, and didn’t have problems with English as Spanish was the spoken language at home. He’d been alright with his siblings until they all started to grow older... then they’d all sort of... given up on their little brother

“Luis gave into his fear long ago”

“That doesn’t make it right. He tried to have you hunted”

“I know he did. Look, I’m way too sober for that conversation. But you’d be right if you thought I ruined our family. No one knew how to handle a kid with flashbacks, nightmares and all the things that come with being a vampire. I’m happy they all got out and had a life...”

“The rest of your family’s like that? Like, Luis?”

“It’s complicated. They don’t understand why I’m the way I am. Why I don’t drive a car in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, why I live in a house that’s a cross between farmhouse and plantation. Why I work so cheaply when I could be earning more. They all think I sponge off Mami, and stay with her so I have control over her. It’s easier to pick your battles and the way I see it, Mami won’t live forever. I’ve caused her enough pain that shouldn’t have to see me fighting with my siblings. Fuck... I really am way too sober”

Taking off his glasses, Lance leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his palms. Keith didn’t know his life outside of whatever he’d read. He didn’t know how hard it was in the house to have a blood sucker. He didn’t know how many times Lance had made things hard for their family. How he’d cost them all this extra money to keep him fed and safe. Then there was therapy. Him changing schools. Him dealing with his mental health while trying to deal with puberty and nightmares. And God knew how hard it was. How hard it was for his parents, how exhausted they were. How his condition was kind of taboo, and no one was allowed to make a joke about it lest his Mami heard and you’d get smacked across your arse with her pink slipper. Keith picked up the box of cereal again, Lance could hear his moves. The way the contents of the box shook, and the way his clothes rustled. The tiny shift of his footing as he stood on tiptoe to find a space in the cupboard

“I think you were wrong not to stand up for yourself”

Of course “Crusader Keith” thought he needed to stand up for himself, he’d been trained by “Shiro the Hero”

“Tried that, doesn’t work”

He always sent cards, via Mami who knew their address

“Even if Shiro turned, I don’t think I could ever give up on him”

“That’s because you’re far more emotionally mature that my siblings were when they had to deal with a messed up little brother. I’m going to get a bottle of red. Fuck being sober, I’m going to wallow the patheticness out my system, then hopefully I won’t be such a grumpy dick”

“I don’t think you’re being too grumpy. You’re still a bit of a dick”

Lance snorted, placing down his cup of coffee

“That might just be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me”

“Don’t get used to it”

Lance’s lips turned upwards, the ghosting of a smile. Keith was a total dick, and had no place in Lance’s life, but he wasn’t as obnoxious as he’d been when they first met

“Have a look in the blue bag, down the bottom. I got you something while I was out”

*

“Have a look in the blue bag, down the bottom. I got you something while I was out”

Keith didn’t get Lance at all. He’d been moping, now he was kind of smiling, or grimacing, Keith wasn’t completely sure, but the fact Lance had bought him something seemed kind of like a trap

“You got me something?”

“Yep. Blue bag is all yours”

His? Wasn’t the food because he was human? What else did he need?

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why did you get me something?”

“Because when I saw it, I thought of you. Don’t make this weird”

It was already weird. All of this was weird as fuck. Peaking in the first blue bag there was a whole heal of vegetables, including broccoli which he hated, Lance snorted at him

“Not that one. The other one”

“You could have told me that”

“Coulda, woulda, shoulda”

Whatever that meant. Grabbing the second blue bag, Keith pulled it forward by the handles

“Milk?”

“Lactose free. Actually, all the milk I’ve been buying lately to feed your coffee addictions been lactose free, so you’re welcome over that. I said in the bottom. You know, under everything else”

“Shut up. It just looked like bottles of milk”

“On the top, maybe. I’ll give you that”

Keith sighed to himself mentally. How was he supposed to put up with Lance for another two weeks when he had nothing to do. He couldn’t work out, Coran had benched Lance from teaching him anything physical. Sitting around and doing nothing didn’t agree with him. Lifting out the two bottles of milk, he was annoyed that Lance had something nice. He wasn’t strictly like allergic to lactose, but some brands definitely upset his stomach more than others. At the bottom of the bag was a wrapped box, the paper slightly wet from the condensation off the milk bottles

“It’s a box?”

“Wow, I bet those powers of observation are what makes you a great hunter. Open the box, dummy”

Grumpily Keith took the box out of the bag, mumbling as he did

“You didn’t need to buy me anything”

“You’re really bad at accepting gifts aren’t you?”

“Shut up”

Inside the box was a red digital camera. Keith had always loved the colour red, he also indulged in a little photography thanks to Shiro. It wasn’t as fancy as his camera at home, but it wasn’t bottom of the range either

“You got me a camera?”

“Yep. If you’re going to be sticking around, I figured you might want one to keep up the pretence of having left it here”

This would have easily cost Lance a couple of hundred. Didn’t the vampire have better things to spend his money on?

“Why...?”

“Not this again. Fine, I’ll play along. Why, what?”

“Why did you spend money on me?”

“Because you’re stuck here and I thought that it might be nice to have something of your own. It’s also an apology for all the shit I put you through by turning into a bat. Just make sure you get a few photos of the house, I told the others you were taking photos to help me renovate. Accept the damn gift”

Lance seemed as bad at giving gifts as Keith was at receiving them. Not that the camera was a bad gift, the vampire seemed embarrassed that he was making a fuss over it all. Big gifts like this were shaved for birthdays or Christmas, no one went around simply buying things for other people, unless it was Shiro. Shiro had absolutely awful impulse control, Keith’s not that much better. His savings only went as far as saving for what he wanted, buying it, then looking at his abysmally empty bank balance sadly. There was no reason to really save when any mission could see him dead...

“Thanks. I’m not used to things like this”

“I can tell. Just... the camera isn’t me trying to buy your apology. Just so you know, I wanted to do something nice for you, with like, no strings attached... and now that this has gotten even more awkward, I’m off to get that red”

As Lance pushed his chair back, curiosity struck, Keith tilting the box in Lance’s direction

“Hey, Lance... Do you show up in these things?”

“Really? Photos, videos and mirrors... People wish they’d looked as good as I do dead. I mean, otherwise it’d be super suspicious when I didn’t show up in Pidge’s videos, when I let her film me”

“Oh... I hadn’t thought about that”

Lance snorted at him

“Some vampire hunter you are. Please don’t destroy my kitchen while I’m gone. Also, I grabbed some stuff so we can make pizza for dinner... I assume you don’t mind pizza and beer?”

Keith wrinkled his nose. That sounded like he was going to be cooking... and if the piece of shit toaster Lance used to have was anything to go by, then maybe that wouldn’t be the best idea. Lance was already walking towards the kitchen door

“I don’t know how to make pizza”

Raising his hand, the vampire waved his concerns off

“Then prepared to do the learn. Man, I’m going to have to teach you everything, aren’t I?”

“About vampires?”

“Nope. First you learn to do the human, then you’ll learn how to do the dead human. Don’t forget, I’ll hear you if you try breaking my kitchen... ow, fuck...”

Walking straight into the door frame, Lance rubbed at his forehead. Keith had no idea how Lance managed to walk into so many things and be so absolutely uncoordinated while in his own house. He wore glasses, shouldn’t that like help him see? Shouldn’t he have some kind of sense when he was getting too close to something? What kind of a vampire needed glasses? Lance didn’t make sense at all.

[carrotsofavonlea]

Hi! I love your stories! Is it possible to send you a prompt? I love the situation of Gilbert being the first to fall for Anne and her realizing about her feelings in season 3 on the show but what if it was the other way around? What if it was Anne the one gone for Gilbert since the first moment and him only realizing his feelings during season 3 like Anne in AWAE (maybe because she starts courting? or because of any other reason) I'd make me so happy! Big thanks and hugs^^

Thank you for waiting, this took longer than planned and the word count just kept increasing!

(for the purposes of the story lets just pretend Roy is Diana’s cousin ok?)

///

You can't talk to Gilbert Blythe, you can't even look at him. 

Anne didn't want to, but she couldn't help it. Josie's warning all those years ago had never held much weight in Anne's mind. She knew Ruby was helplessly in love with Gilbert, and she respected that. But whenever Gilbert spoke to her she couldn't help but feel her heart rate increase, butterflies formed in her stomach whenever their hands accidentally touched as they worked on the school paper together, passing papers between themselves.

Anne couldn't lie to herself. She was also crushing on Gilbert. How could she not? There was no denying he was the most handsome boy in their class, he had such a splendid chin. Even the moment they met had been like something out of a fairy tale, with Gilbert stepping out of the woods to save her from Billy. Of course she wasn't some helpless damsel, but it had felt nice for once to be cared about. Here she was, a strange girl in the woods but instead of joining in with his classmate, Gilbert had stood up for her. 

Of course he had shown his true colours when he pulled her hair, subsequently pulling her out of whatever prince charming spell he’d had over her. But over the next few months he had slowly won her back, showing that he truly was sorry and now she supposed they’d been friends ever since. It was only when he left for months that she realised she had fallen for his charms again.

For three years she had been helplessly in love with Gilbert Blythe, but there was nothing she could do about it. He had settled into the role of her friend and there was no changing that. Besides, why would he want her - some red-headed orphan - when he could have literally any girl in Avonlea? There were moments she thought maybe he felt it too, when their eyes met across the room, but other times he would take a tone with her and they would start arguing. 

It seemed futile that anything would happen with Gilbert, so when Anne met Diana’s cousin Roy (and he actually showed an active interest in her), how could she say no?

Roy was tall, dark, and handsome. It had started off quite simple. Anne had met him when she visited Aunt Josephine’s as part of her quest to find out more about her family. But he seemed to be there every time she turned up, until eventually Cole suggested they both go out to tea - and soon it became a weekly affair. 

She’d managed to keep it hidden from her friends - other than Diana of course - but especially Gilbert. It wasn’t anything wrong, but somehow she couldn’t bear it if Gilbert ever found out. She was supposed to be over him, but here she was trying to avoid them ever meeting. 

It had been going well until Roy turned up at the county fair. The two worlds were meeting, but Anne had done everything to make sure she avoided Gilbert at the fair, until the dancing began...

“Does he remind you of someone?” Ruby said, tilting her head as she stared at Roy while he was talking to Anne.

“He’s related to Diana, Ruby.” Josie rolled her eyes.

“No, that’s not it...his hair is...and his eyes…” she turned her head, catching a glimpse of Gilbert stood on the other side of the dance hall, talking to Moody. And then it hit her. “Gilbert. He looks like Gilbert!”

The other girls all immediately turned around to stare at Gilbert, giggling when he awkwardly caught their eyes. 

“Perhaps we should...introduce them.” Josie smirked, walking towards Gilbert before the other girls could stop her.

Josie linked her arm through Gilbert’s, dragging him across the hall and tapping Roy on the shoulder, Anne’s face falling when she realised what was happening.

“Gilbert, this is Roy. Anne’s -”

“Friend.” Anne cut off Josie before she could spin some kind of web that would leave everyone uncomfortable. 

“Pleasure. Anne’s told me all about her classmates but she failed to tell me about you.” Roy smiled a bright smile as he held out his hand to Gilbert, but there was something in his eyes that Anne couldn’t read.

“Likewise.” Gilbert returned the handshake with similar politeness, but like Roy there seemed to be a stiffness about the pleasantries, a tension between the two boys.

Roy subtly glanced Gilbert up and down, mentally comparing himself. Gilbert was similar in height to him, perhaps broader in the shoulders as evidence of his life in farmwork. But Roy’s suit was smarter, his cufflinks pure silver, given as a gift for his eighteenth birthday. Roy’s hair was parted neater, his shoes not scuffed but polished so that his reflection was almost visible. He was almost a mirror of what Gilbert could have been had he been born into a wealthy family. 

After a moment’s silence, Gilbert nodded to Anne, stepping away and back into the crowd, an unreadable expression on his face. Was he jealous? No, Gilbert Blythe didn’t get jealous. He was far above that. Or was he?

////

Gilbert walked home in a daze, staring up at the moon. Anne...had a beau? She was courting someone. He’d never considered it before, not that Anne wasn’t courting material, any man would be lucky to be her husband. But he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. Maybe he had had a crush on her once, but she’d quickly made her feelings known so he just never pursued anything. 

He just never imagined she’d find someone. Logically he knew it was bound to happen, but it still shocked him. They’d been friends for years, he hadn’t imagined one day she wouldn’t be in his life. Why did he care? He should be happy for his friend. And yet, there was a burning feeling in his chest when he thought of Anne with another boy. Another boy who looked exactly like him. It was just a coincidence. Right?

“I don’t know Gilbert, it sounds like maybe you’re in love with Anne.” Bash was bouncing Dellie up and down as he paced, listening to Gilbert recount the events of the fair. 

“I’m, she’s, we’re not...I am just curious about this Roy character.” 

Bash tilted his head, “Sure. Just curious like you were when you got her letter on the boat and wouldn’t stop talking about her.”

“She’s my friend. I just don’t think this Roy is a right fit for her.” Gilbert hung his jacket on the back of the kitchen chair, leaning his two hands on the back as he thought. “You should have seen the way he looked at me. Like I was irrelevant, beneath him.”

“I can imagine.”

Gilbert straightened up, realising what that must sound like to Bash. Of course he knows what it’s like to be looked at like you were nothing. “I’m sorry. I just-”

“It’s alright.” Bash shook his head.

Gilbert began pacing, gesticulating to emphasise his points. “But my point was that Anne shouldn’t be with someone like that. She’s too good for him. He’s the type who just wants a pretty wife to sit around his house and cook for him, but that’s not Anne. She has a mind, and spirit. She deserves someone who can see that. Who knows what it’s like to have to work for something. Someone who will let her follow her dreams. Someone...someone like…”

“Someone like you?” 

Gilbert stood still, hands falling to his sides. He imagined it, him and Anne. It didn’t scare him, but rather it made it all clear. He was in love with Anne. He was in love with Anne Shirley Cuthbert. But she was with someone else…

“She loves him. Not me…” 

Bash put Dellie down and grasped Gilbert by the shoulders. “You don’t know it’s love. He’s a nice fellow who showed interest. How do you know if you didn’t tell her how you feel that she’d return those feelings. You’ve shown no interest, she probably thinks you don’t care for her. You said it yourself he looks just like you. Is that not a sign? You have to tell her, you have to give her a choice at least.”

Gilbert nodded slowly, letting Bash’s words sink in. “I...I have to tell her. I have to tell her that I love her. And if she rejects me then I’ll have to accept it. But like you said, I have to give her a choice.”

Gilbert fled from the house, running through the night towards Green Gables.

////

“This is all so...sudden.” Anne stood on the porch of Green Gables, one hand on her chest, the other being held by Roy who was on his knees. 

“Anne, I’ve asked Marilla and Matthew and they say it falls to you. So what do you say?”

“I…” she hadn’t imagined her marriage proposal to be so...unromantic.

Roy had been talking about his father’s business and that he was soon to come into money, and before she knew what was happening he was on his knees asking if she would be his wife. They’d barely been…(were they even courting?) for a few weeks. She’d imagined a far more romantic speech, and she’d expected to actually feel like she was in love. Roy was lovely, and he was pleasant to be around, but she didn’t know if she could be around him forever. When she thought of her life...Roy wasn’t there. Her mind couldn’t conjure up the image of them together, sitting by the fire reading, holding hands in their matching chairs.

“What about college? I haven’t even started yet.”

Roy stood up, smiling, “Yes but if we were married you wouldn’t even need to go to college. Isn’t that great? I’d support us so you needn't work a day in your life.”

Anne shook her head, “But I want to be a teacher. It’s not about money. It’s about dreams.”

“You’ll have new dreams.” He held one of her hands, holding a ring in the other. She pulled her hand from his.

“I don’t want new dreams. You’re asking me to give up my life. I can’t do that.”

“But everyone expects it.”

Anne shook her head. “Roy, I can’t marry you. I can’t be expected to give up my dreams and settle down as some house wife. That isn’t who I am. I can’t be that person for you. I’m sorry, but goodbye Roy.”

“Anne?”

“I can’t.” 

“Is there someone else? It's that Blythe boy isn’t it? That we met at the fair?” 

At the mention of Gilbert her heart sank. She had been in love with him for years, tried to move on with Roy but that hadn’t worked. It always came back to Gilbert. But it was true when she pictured a future with Roy, it didn’t seem right. But when she thought of a future without Gilbert in it...she just couldn’t. 

“He doesn’t love me back. But that isn’t why I can’t marry you. We don’t work. I’m sorry Roy.”

Roy bowed his head solemnly, “He is a fool for not loving you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Perhaps one day we can be friends, and laugh about this nonsense?”

Anne laughed, “I hope so.”

“Then, farewell Anne.” Roy politely bowed, taking his leave from Anne for perhaps the last time.

She sat on the porch after he’d left, letting the moonlight light up the fields before her. A part of her thought she had made a mistake, but another part of her knew there was no use trying to pretend that she was not still hopelessly in love with Gilbert. Marrying Roy would only end in unhappiness for the both of them, but at least she figure it out sooner rather than later.

As she hugged her knees tighter to herself she mumbled, “Unreciprocated love is far more tragical anyway…”

She looked up as she heard footsteps approaching, a dishevelled looking Gilbert breathing heavily stood before her. Had he run all the way here?

“Mind if I join you?” he gestured to the empty space on the porch step, and Anne shuffled over to make room.

“Anne...I have to tell you something. And I know you’re with Roy and he’s a very lucky man but…”

“I’m not with Roy.” She whispered, looking down at the ground. “He asked me to marry him and I said no…”

“Oh…” Gilbert forgot what he was going to say and instead followed up with, “Why did you refuse him?”

She sighed, “We want different things. He’s not right for me. I want someone who will support my dreams, not prevent them. I can’t be the perfect little house wife that he expects. But also,” she finally met Gilbert’s eyes. “because I realise I’m still in love with someone else.”

“Oh...well, that’s unfortunate.” Gilbert awkwardly cleared his throat, unsure what to say.

“What was it you came here to tell me?” she perked up a little, a small smile tugging at her lips.

He couldn’t back down now, “That...that I love you. And I know I can’t offer the marbled halls that Roy can, but I promise you, my heart is and always has belonged to you. I should have told you earlier, but in all truth I didn’t even know myself. All I knew was that you were always going to be in my future, I just didn’t know how. But now I do. I’m not asking for your favour, I just couldn’t let you marry him without knowing how I felt.”

Anne leaned forward, cupping both his cheeks with her hands as she kissed him. When she pulled back, she was surprised at herself for acting so boldly. But when Gilbert’s face broke into a huge smile, she knew all was well. 

“Do you truly love me too?” he said, almost pinching himself to check it was all real. 

“I always have. You just took too long to notice.”

“Forgive me.” he laughed, brushing the hair from her face as he leaned in to kiss her this time.

“But this isn’t a marriage proposal?” she suddenly stopped, holding up a hand.

“No.” Gilbert’s eyes grew wide. “Were you expecting one?”

“No.”

He took one of her hands, “How about we make a promise. That one day, it will be a proposal. One day when we’re done with school and college. But for now, we’ll just...be.”

“I like the sound of that.”

He lifted her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “I should probably go before Marilla shouts at me for this indecent display.”

“Perhaps.” Anne laughed, letting him help her up. “Goodnight, Gilbert.”

He grabbed her waist, kissing her quickly once again just because he could. “Goodnight, my Anne with an E.”

[altphilcmena]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟑 ;; a collection of writings.

implications of trauma, death, murder, gun violence, mental illness / rehabilitation, general violence. 

𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒊 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚 ;; dated october 23rd, 2013. written in a moleskin journal.

the birds chirping

a broken wind chime

daisies in the windowsill

lysander and his boyfriend

elektra and her guitar

juno, alone

the setting sun

𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 ;; dated september 29th, 2015. written on yellow notepad paper, lost behind the vanity.

     mother, father, lysander, juno, orion, valora, and whoever else it may concern -

this is not goodbye, and it is not forever. explicitly, i am leaving home for an undetermined amount of time. i have respectfully decided to follow elektra in her pursuits - they are of passion, and of yearning, and i have felt this way for quite some time now. this is not a life of fulfillment, at least not one for me. i wish to experience more. i want to know more. i want to feel cultured beyond the texts of ancient greek and latin. i want to feel what elektra feels, and if she goes, i will be void of it. i have to go, but it is not forever. this is not goodbye. to lysander, i send my best regards. he will say yes. juno, i’m sorry. i am forever sorry. orion, valora - i will think of you both, everyday, and the people you become. mother, father - our intelligence is not yet aligned, but one day it will be. you will be proud, as you always are. you are admirable, and so will i. water the garden, take care of the stable, stay out of the woods.

                                                       evermore,                                                                            𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒂

𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒂 ;; dated may 6th, 2019. written on a napkin, and burnt with a lighter.

i have potentially done something terrible, today. we’re leaving in the morning, and i doubt we’ll ever return. some laws are stupid. i did not hurt anyone. i will never hurt anyone. i simply gave a warning shot.

𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒍 ;; dated may 30th, 2019. written on stationery, adorned with mushrooms. sent to the carmichael residence at woodside, california.

florence broke down in connecticut today. the sign says lovell. the streets are busy, in that small town way. it’s a small town - mostly college students. we are fine, please do not send money. it is always burned. i believe i may enroll at the university here, radcliffe. there is a floral shop that always smells sweet, and the boy behind the register always smiles at me. there are rumors of ghosts and misfortune that haunt radcliffe - but do not fret, i will not open unearthed boxes. i have learnt my lesson. i’m careful, now. more careful than i had been before. i’m smarter, too. i suppose i have you to thank for that. so, thank you. i am running out of space to write. with best wishes, philo

𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚'𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒌𝒆 ;; dated july 12th, 2010. written on construction paper, later torn and folded to make paper stars for a fancy paper stars jar.

i don’t like the police, they ask very many questions. they came to our house and asked us about our hike today. juno’s and i’s, to be very specific. it was only the two of us. but we are very smart. they asked what we saw. i saw many birds. blackbirds and bluebirds and a cardinal, too - those are red. sparrows and wrens. finches. i saw poison oak, but because i am very smart i did not touch the poison oak. i saw wildflowers. i saw a red scarf, and it was very odd. we went down a different path than usual, but there are no scarves in the woods besides on this path. it was a very dirty scarf, but my eyes are very good and i can see color very well. juno didn’t like the scarf, though. she hated the scarf. she liked it at first, but then she hated it after she touched it. the fabric must not be very nice. i don’t blame the scarf, however, for how it was made. it is just a scarf. but she screamed and screamed and screamed and the park ranger was called. he’s very nice, the park ranger. he called mom and dad. juno couldn’t, but i don’t know why. we’re home now, and the cops are gone, but juno has been very quiet. i hope she is okay. it was just a scarf. i hope we go on another hike soon. i miss the trees. they have things to tell me.

𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 ;; dated november 5th, 2019. written in a tiny notebook with crayon.

brown sugar

almond milk

cat litter

bleach

bedazzling kit

eggs, brown

oranges

strawberries

blackberries

earl grey tea

hair ties

get well soon card

bandaids

𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ;; dated april 17th, 2018. written on the window in dry erase.

dive for scraps at junkyard

weld

fast food breakfast

hang upside down to test blood flow

fish

fast food lunch

library

class :o(

meet elektra at bridge

diner dinner

moonlit walk across town

stargaze

𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒔 ;; dated april 28th, 2020. written in a notebook, later discarded.

leopold is a good person. leopold kristoff fowler is a good person. leopold fowler is a good person. leo fowler is a good person. i can testify this, because he is kind to me because i see him everyday, and he does not have a history of unwarranted violence. i believe that what you saw on that day was a fluke, a lapse in judgement power thought (come back to this) leo fowler is of noble character. i know this for fact. it is not disputable. i would trust my life in his hands. i do trust my life in his hands. trust holds more value above all else. my life has been in his hands before, matter of fact. i believe leo fowler saved my life, in fact (repetitive), after a very terrible accident in which i fell from several heights. it was one of the scariest things i have ever experienced. he was there as it happened, and took immediate action to insure i was properly taken care of. i fear that if it hadn’t been for him, i would be under very different circumstances. (handwriting becomes illegible, as if the rest had been scribbled away)

𝒕𝒐 𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒐 ;; dated feburary 1st, 2017. written on floral stationary and sent in an envelope (lost in the mail and never delivered).

     to juno, my dearly estranged sister,

it’s been some years now since we’ve last spoke, and i hope you are well. truly well. elektra and i are fine, as we always are. we are surviving, and i hope you are too. you’re one of the bravest people i know, maybe even more so than elektra (do not tell her that i said this, please) and i know i have hurt you in more ways than can be said, or imagined. i will not excuse my selfishness, but i urge you to see from my perspective. i am not dumb, nor have i ever. i have ears and eyes and very keen senses. i knew you were being sent away, and so did elektra. come to think of it, you are the only one who was left unaware. i can’t tell you if it was selfish, or if it was in their best interest for you. i’m afraid i’m biased, and i still cannot yet see from your perspective. clearly, at least. i wish i can, someday, and i wish to hear from you soon. i’m sorry that we left as we did. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you my plans. i’m sorry for abandoning you. i know we both don’t care for empty homes, that’s why i left when i did. i thought you’d be gone, longer, too. sometimes i have very poor judgment and i’m not ashamed to admit it. i am, however, ashamed to admit that i have misjudged you. you’re far more complex than i knew of, and i can only blame the ignorance of youth. it’s only been two years, but i’m far wiser now. please believe me. i wouldn’t leave you now, if i were the age i am now than i was then. one day when the cycle repeats, i hope i remember to do better by you. congratulations on your acceptance to columbia.

                                                      evermore,                                                                          𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒂

𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒊 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚 ;; dated may 12th, 2020. written in a moleskin journal.

the rising sun

pail sleeping on a pile of blankets

rosemary and basil and mint and thyme

my reflection

elektra, and her guitar

leo :o)

a murder of crows

my favorite tree

songbirds

the stars, far earlier than night

[kagehinataboke]

idk if you're still taking prompts... (and is totally okay if you aren't!!! you must have a lot already...) but IF you have the time AND I F you want to do it, can i please (with a cherry on top) request tdbk 1+17?? like maybe something in wwii?? like maybe they're both jews ot something along the ´the boy in the striped pajamas´ storyline, with todo as bruno (or maybe baku as bruno...) or maybe they're japanese and in japan... (1/2)

… i mean, japan was a big part of the wwii too. anyway, whatever is fine! i’m just really invested in the idea huh. but if you can, obviously!!!! no pressure!!! your writing is perfect!!!! (2/2)

first of all: thank you ❤️ second of all: HELL YES. YES. anon, you don’t know this, but i’m obsessed with history and have been wanting to do a WWII au FOREVER ;-;

also i listener to this song while writing and it increases the sadness level by about 100000% if anyone is interested

tdbk, [1] Historical AU and [17] War AU

***

“Are you still having the nightmares?”

“I’ve been doing the breathing exercises before bed.” Bakugou avoids the question, as he always does when Aizawa asks. “I think things are a bit better.”

That’s a lie. He still has the nightmares, and things are the opposite of better. But how is Bakugou supposed to tell his doctor that, after a year away from the war, he still has the same nightmare day after day? That it never gets any better no matter what he does? He can’t, and he doesn’t.

Every night, he goes to sleep terrified of the images that live deep in his mind. The memories that only come out in dreams. The nameless boy he doesn’t know, yet somehow knows all too well. The screams of that boy, which echo in Bakugou’s head for hours after he wakes up. The heat of blood. The overwhelming smell of saltwater. The smoke-filled sky over the murky Pacific. Fragments of things he used to know.

The only thing he can think of that will get rid of this burden is finding the person stuck in his head. If only things were that simple. Bakugou has been checking the records of every soldier in navy battle, but he can’t connect a name to the face that flickers behind his closed eyelids. Why can’t he remember?

After waking up in the hospital thirteen months ago, he could only recall three things: his name, his age, and that he was a soldier for the Japanese navy. Nothing else. Now, he’s regained most of his childhood memories, but his time spent fighting in the war remains hazy. He’s blocked it out due to severe trauma, the doctors say, but Bakugou wants nothing more than to remember.

“Make sure you come back in a month,” Aizawa tells him, as always, when he dismisses him. “And don’t go poking around the recruitment office anymore. They’ll think you’re well enough to be re-drafted.”

Bakugou just nods, pulls his hat low over his eyes, and steps out into the rainy afternoon smog. He’s got dark circles from lack of sleep, and he seriously doubts the army would want him back given his severe memory issues. It’s not like he chose to have his ship blown up or to get amnesia. Whatever. He doesn’t need to go back to the recruitment office, anyway: they won’t tell him anything. If he’s going to find this mystery boy, he’s going to have to do it alone.

He’s starting to recover bits and pieces, at least. The dreams, although horrifying, are becoming clearer. He can remember sights, sounds, sensations. The smell of the ocean. The feeling of a hand on his wrist, and the sun on his face. The smile of the boy with no name—the boy Bakugou’s heart aches for. He knows him, if only he could remember how.

That’s why he can’t tell Aizawa about the nightmares. He’ll try to get rid of them, and then Bakugou will have nothing left to remember. The more he dreams, the closer he gets. That boy holds the key to what Bakugou knew in the past. He’s going to remember everything, even if it fucking kills him.

His friends, however, think he’s lost it.

“You come back alive with nothing more than some scrapes and amnesia, yet your head is still living in the war? I don’t get you,” intones Kirishima, one of Bakugou’s old high-school classmates. He stayed back in Japan to design planes—helping the war effort in a different, arguably smarter way. It certainly didn’t make him any less annoying, though.

“You don’t get it,” Bakugou replies irritably, digging through the papers piled in front of them. “I’m not living in the war. You’d be frustrated, too, if you had things you knew you remembered but could never fucking remember them.” He nudges Kirishima roughly. “Keep looking. I know I’ll find him eventually.”

“How can you expect to dig through thousands of records with nothing more than a face to go off?” Kirishima whines, opening a new box to dump out piles of photos. “I obviously won’t know if it’s him, so how can I even be of help?”

“Use this.” Bakugou pulls a sketch from his jacket pocket and presses it to the table. It‘s the only thing that survived his trip to the ocean. He can’t remember drawing it, but it’s definitely his handiwork: A profile of the mystery boy, leaning against a ship’s railing. There’s half a smile on his face, and his eyes are peaceful. Serene. So out of place in a war zone.

“When did you draw this?” Kirishima squints at the paper. “Wow… it’s really good. You got better while you were stuck on that ship, huh?”

“Shut up and look, Shitty Hair.”

Bakugou spreads the pictures apart, but no face jumps out at him. Why is it so hard to remember someone he clearly knew so well? He’s so frustrated that he wants to rip his hair out. Where is this damn guy, and why does Bakugou need to get back to him so badly?

***

“Shouto, it’s past noon. You need to get up.”

Todoroki doesn’t stir. He keeps looking out at the sea, ignoring Fuyumi’s impatient presence at his back. The scent of saltwater is always strongest in the early morning. The harbor is already full of fishermen’s ships, heading out for a day of hard work.

Unfortunately, like the ocean, Fuyumi is immovable. “You need to get out of the house today. It’s been three weeks since you came back, and you’re starting to reek of despair.”

“Despair doesn’t have a smell,” Todoroki sighs, finally rolling over to look at her.

She folds her arms over her chest. “False: it’s what little brothers smell like after locking themselves in their room for a month. Get up. Bathe. Go to the market for me.”

Todoroki knows she won’t give up, so he pushes himself up, accepting the crutches she passes to him. She already has a tub ready, and as much as he hates to admit it, the hot water feels soothing on his aching limbs. They’re stiff after being in the same position for so long. Most of them, anyway. Todoroki has to marvel at the way the feeling in his left leg just ends at the knee. He’ll have to get used to it eventually, he supposes.

When he’s changed, Fuyumi gives him some money and kicks him out into the dismal afternoon drizzle. After the end of the war, Japan is healing slowly from its wounded pride and broken cities. Todoroki was lucky to return to his family home in Matsue, untouched by the carnage. If only his body and mind shared the same fortune.

The market is scarce with rationing still in place, but Todoroki manages to find most of Fuyumi’s list before he runs into a long line at the fish market. He settles in for the wait and picks up snippets of a conversation ahead.

“He’s raiding records and stirring up trouble with the army left and right, so much so that he’s infamous, even way out here.”

“What? All that to find one person? Kyoto men are their own brand of crazy.”

Todoroki reaches the front of the line, collects a parcel of fish, and heads home. His mind replays the strangers’ words. Kyoto is one of the only big cities unscathed after the war. Once upon a time, Bakugou had said he was from there.

Bakugou… Todoroki has been trying not to think of him. His name only brings pain. When they were separated at sea and Bakugou’s ship went down, Todoroki had minutes to panic before his own ship suffered the same fate. A slaughter, they called it. So many men lost to the sea that it was impossible to keep track of them all. Many are still lost, and even the ones that returned haven’t truly been found. They all left parts of themselves out in those bloody waters, Todoroki included.

He searched the records of their platoon and could find nothing of Bakugou Katsuki. It was almost as if he never existed. Todoroki would believe it, if not for the memories. They come on nights when the sea is calm and the sky is clear. Only good memories, which are somehow all the more painful.

Bakugou used to draw him. He was trying to be an artist before the draft, he said. He would only let Todoroki see some of his work, and never what he drew of him. He did draw him, even though he never admitted it. In every spare moment, Bakugou’s head was buried in a notebook, gaze trailing Todoroki across the deck, hand moving as if it had its own eyes.

“Shouto?” Fuyumi opens the door, which Todoroki has been standing in front of for a while. “What are you doing?”

Todoroki looks up at her, feeling clear-headed for the first time since returning home. “I want to visit Kyoto.”

***

Bakugou fiddles with a charcoal pencil. He still has to stop himself from using it. His fingers itch to sketch out the shape of familiar cheekbones. Of eyes that used to watch him. That still watch him in his nightmares. He’s afraid of what his hands will unleash if he gives them access to paper.

“Still can’t draw?” Kirishima sits beside him, an engineering journal in hand.

“No.” Bakugou sets down his pencil with a sigh. “Everything just feels so damn bland. There’s nothing beautiful here.” He’s not here, his mind corrects. He was here and now he’s not. He’s missing from me.

“You’re in a spiral,” Kirishima says. He doesn’t mean it maliciously, but it still pisses Bakugou off, even before he adds, “If you waste your life chasing after ghosts, you’ll always be living amid war.”

“What the fuck do you know?” Bakugou snaps, hugging his knees to his chest. He considers jumping off the train railing they’re perching against, but he isn’t suicidal. Yet.

“You’re stuck. That’s all I’m trying to say. This mystery person you can’t forget is like a rope. He’s keeping you tethered in a past you can’t even remember.”

“But he’s the key to remembering!” Bakugou snaps. “I know he is! If I can find him, I… I know everything will come back to me.” Bakugou’s hands clench into fists. “I’m not living in the past. I’m chasing it, but it’s moving too damn fast for me to keep up.”

Kirishima doesn’t say anything to that. How can he? Bakugou is sure he’s being clear about how desperate he is. One more dream and he’ll remember his name. Just one second longer and it will come to him. He can’t stop searching, or he’ll lose this part of himself. The part his heart won’t let go even when his mind has forgotten.

“I’m going back home.” Bakugou gets up, pausing before sticking the pencil in his coat pocket. “I’ll see you later.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. Instead, he pulls a sketch from his back pocket. Its edges are worn from constant unfolding, but the subject is as clear as when his unclouded eyes gazed upon it. There are thousands of other images like it living in Bakugou’s head, and he wonders now if it might be better to draw them. To set them free will be to experience them in the light of day. The light may be exactly what he needs most.

His hands agree all too quickly. Bakugou can’t rip new sheets of paper off fast enough before they’re filled with him. His eyes, his smile, his hands, his face, his everything. The pages spill across the floor, just like water spilled over the decks of that sinking ship so long ago. How his memories flowed out of his head and into the sea.

The sea… He lived by the sea, didn’t he?

Bakugou can recall his voice in whispers softer than crashing waves. My home is called Matsue. There’s nothing very exciting about it, but… the ocean is so close. When I wake up, I can hear it and smell it. The scent of saltwater is always strongest in the early morning.

Bakugou pauses mid-sketch. A stoic face looking out to sea watches him.

Matsue… isn’t very far away. If he’s alive, he’ll be there. He must be there. And even if he isn’t there, Matsue still might hold the key to who he is. And, just maybe, who Bakugou is.

***

“Are you sure you can handle taking the train by yourself?”

“I’m not a child, Fuyumi. I’ll be fine.” Todoroki lets her adjust the bag across his shoulders before nudging her away. “I’ll be back soon, and I’ll call when I arrive.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll see you later.” She hugs him goodbye, and Todoroki finally boards the train to Kyoto.

The ride only takes two days, and in that time, Todoroki has things to keep him occupied. He’s supposed to be studying his medical books to get back into school, but instead, he gets distracted by the paper tucked in his coat pocket. It’s a sketch of the ocean that Bakugou gave him for birthday. Fuyumi must’ve put it there. When he first arrived back home, he wouldn’t let go of it for a week.

Todoroki wonders what Kyoto is like. Bakugou spoke little about his home and himself. He always wanted to hear about Todoroki, instead. Perhaps Kyoto will reveal a new part of Bakugou. Or, with any luck, all of him.

The city is, however, not as Todoroki expected. It’s dark and rainy, but in a different way than Matsue. Kyoto rain is overwhelming and hard and doesn’t smell of the sea. Rather than wet sand and gravel underfoot, the city streets are muddy and antagonistic.

Todoroki wanders aimlessly through the center of the town, which is ablaze with activity. There are people as far as the eye can see, but none of them are the one Todoroki searches for. He should’ve come here with more than memories and a name, but it’s too late to go home now. If there’s one lesson the war taught him, it’s to always keep looking ahead. Literally, in this case.

“Watch where you’re going!” A stranger pulls Todoroki out of the way of an approaching car, which splashes then both with mud.

“Thank you,” Todoroki mutters after collecting himself. “I… I got lost in thought.”

“You seem lost in general.” The stranger pauses, doing a double-take for reasons Todoroki doesn’t understand. “Whoa, wait a second— Hey, weird random question, but you weren’t… in the navy, were you?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Oh. Oh man. I can’t explain, but you really need to come with me.” The stranger takes him by the arm. “I’ll tell you on the way. Actually, before that—do you know someone by the name of Bakugou?”

“What?” Todoroki’s heart skips a beat. He pulls the stranger to a stop. “Bakugou? Bakugou Katsuki? He’s still alive? Do you know him? Is he here? Can I see him?”

“Slow down. That’s too many questions. He’s here and alive, I’m his best friend, Kirishima, and I’ll take you to his place right now.”

“He’s… he’s really alive?” Todoroki presses a hand to his chest, feeling his pulse hammer against his fingertips. “You’re not kidding?”

“I’m serious. And from the looks of it, you’ve been searching for him as hard as he’s been searching for you.”

“He’s been searching for me?” Todoroki follows Kirishima down the street, feeling his heart slam into his chest. It’s been so long since he let himself hope… To think that Bakugou has been alive, and looking for him, this whole time is unreal.

“He’s been obsessed with finding you since he got back.” Kirishima glances at Todoroki nervously. “You probably don’t know this, but… he has severe amnesia. He regained most of his memories, but he says the time he spent in the war is hazy. Your face was the one thing he couldn’t forget.”

Todoroki wipes away a few sudden tears before Kirishima sees them. “Thank you. Thank you for telling me.”

“I just can’t believe I ran into you. He’ll lose his mind.” Kirishima stops outside a small housing unit and knocks on the door. His excitement noticeably dissipates the longer the knock goes unanswered. “Er… let me get the spare key.”

Todoroki takes a moment to cool down. He shouldn’t get his hopes up, even now. He needs to be prepared for the worst. But when the front door opens, his heart blossoms with nothing but hope. Drawings flood the room, lying across the floor in crests as big as ocean waves.

Him. It’s all him. Todoroki stares at himself on every page, staring out to sea, tying ropes, playing cards, smiling.

“He’s not here,” Kirishima says, bending down to pick up one of the drawings. “I don’t know what happened, but… I guess this probably confirms everything I said.”

“Where did he go?” Todoroki has to stop himself from grabbing Kirishima’s shoulders. Irrational panic is clawing its way to the surface. Todoroki has to reassure himself that he isn’t losing Bakugou again when he hasn’t even gotten him back yet. “Do you know why he isn’t here?”

“I’m not sure, but—“

“Oh, you’re here, Kirishima?” Someone new appears in the open doorway, shaking rain from his blond hair. “Who’s this?”

“Kaminari!” Kirishima practically jumps on the startled newcomer. “Do you know where Bakugou went?”

“Huh? Yeah. He went to Matsue to chase after that guy that he…” Kaminari pauses to look at Todoroki, then at Kirishima, then back at Todoroki. “Oh. Well. Bakugou is in Matsue, but I guess… the person he’s looking for isn’t.”

***

Matsue is completely different than Kyoto. Rather than being simply untouched by the war, it’s as if it never existed here. The people seem almost carefree; happy, even. Bakugou wanders the streets in wonder at the change. The war has touched here—it’s easy to tell—but things are already on the mend.

Bakugou finds himself in a crowded market, where rationed goods are being bartered for and carried away. His eyes comb through the rain, searching for a familiar face. He doesn’t find it, but he does spot someone who sparks the faintest recognition. He’s seen a picture of her before.

“Excuse me.” He startles her by tapping her on the shoulder, so much so that she almost smacks him. “Sorry. You just look familiar.”

The girl is about to brush him off when she does a double-take. “You’re—“ She cuts herself off; shakes her head, as if in understanding. “You missed him,” she sighs slowly. “He left for Kyoto two days ago.”

Bakugou’s hands clench into fists. She knows. “He’s looking for me?”

“He thought you were dead.” She readjusts the basket on her arm. “He only just arrived home a few weeks ago. Nothing would console him when he couldn’t find any trace of you. He‘s... well, he wasn’t well enough to searxh for you.”

“He thinks I’m dead?” Bakugou swallows thickly. He could ask her for his name, or ask when he’ll be back, but his tongue can’t form the words. “I have to go,” he mutters instead, backing away. She doesn’t stop him, so he turns to run.

He sprints all the way to the train station, the street passing by in a blur of moving feet and mud. He’s so distracted that he runs head-first into someone on the platform. They collide, Bakugou grabbing an elbow at the last second to keep them both from falling. “Sorry. I’m in—“

The world fractures, and Bakugou is suddenly back in the war. Not the violent parts, but the calm ones. The days where he would sit and sketch the same person over and over, but would never let him see no matter how much he begged. The afternoons where they played cards and swapped stories from home. The nights where they snuck into empty places and got lost in each other.

Bakugou‘s fingers have suddenly settled against his cheeks, holding his face up into the dreary evening light. His skin is soft and his eyes are lost in memories, just as Bakugou’s must be.

His name… His name is…

Bakugou feels himself smile for the first time in months. “Todoroki.”

He doesn’t recognize his own voice. It’s never been so soft. So close to breaking. But then again, he’s never experienced this type of relief before. The final pieces of his memory settle back into place, and his heart becomes whole again. The war that’s been waging inside of him ever since he woke up has finally been won.

Todoroki hugs him, his arms solid and achingly real. He pulls back to look at him, tears trickling from the eyes that used to haunt Bakugou’s dreams. “I missed you,” he says, so softly it’s almost a whisper.

Bakugou kisses him to steal the sadness from his voice. Then he kisses him again. And again, until he thinks he might know he is. Who they both are.

The war is over. This time, for good.

[wemultitudinous]

@kingofdirtandnothing​ asked: Kiss Meme: The Series

KISS MEME // ACCEPTING

23. A one-sided kiss where my muse doesn’t respond back right away, because it was time for something that wasn’t entirely unrepentant fluff

If he hadn’t watch John spin that bottle himself, he’d suspect Eliza of rigging it.

She’s had to listen to him talk about John long enough, even back before Alex found out his name, and he was just the cute baseball player who’d started dropping in to watch debate. He hadn’t expected John to come to the party in the first place. Hadn’t expected him to drop down into a circle to play spin the bottle, which Alex had seen in movies but never actually taken part in. Sure as hell hadn’t expected quite such an enthusiastic response, either, not that the prospect of almost-certain failure had been anywhere near enough to keep him from taking that shot when it was handed him to like all the stars had aligned for it.

John, as it turns out, is full of surprises. And Alex, as it turns out, is a fan of all of them.

He starts taking his books to the bleachers to watch baseball practice, and even makes half an effort to pay enough attention to understand the rules but that turns out to be a little ambitious with John spinning the bat in his hands before he settles, rolling back a shoulder, all with such hypnotic ease.

John starts dropping down at their table for lunch, sometimes, leg pressed close against Alex’s under the table. That’s enough to give Alex the warm and fuzzies: they’re not quite the outcasts corner, given the almost-constant presence of at least one of the Schuyler sisters, who are rich, pretty, and kind/terrifying/funny enough, delete as appropriate, to have a degree of universal popularity, but they’re not exactly the baseball team, either.

And in the quiet moments they steal after school, or hanging out in Lafayette’s front room after he tactfully disappears for a while to call his family back in Paris, John lets Alex drape himself all over him, and they kiss like it’s the only thing in the world, long and slow and lazy, wandering hands and tongues. Alex could kiss John forever.

Which is why not being able to kiss him is like a physical itch beneath his skin some days, when John’s walking down the corridor towards him with his buddies, and he catches Alex’s eye with a smile tucked against the freckles on his cheek. If Alex had his way, he’d stop him right there, hands clinging to the edges of John’s jacket as he rocked up onto his toes to lick a kiss into his mouth. The way he sees the other guys’ girlfriends do.

Still, if he angles himself so that they pass close enough for a fingers to brush against John’s hip, unnoticed, then that’s his business. And in the end, just hanging out with John is good, too, because John’s smarter than he thinks he is, and funny as well, and for all that the venn diagram of their lives and childhoods is pretty much two separate circles, John gets him like nobody else does.

So here they are, tucked away in an empty corridor for the half hour before Alex’s debate practice starts, just hanging out. But it’s after school on a Friday, the debate teams gearing up for competition and putting in all hours, and they haven’t seen another soul the entire time they’ve been here, and that’s enough for a little boldness to slip through.

It’s not like they’re getting frisky in the corridors or anything, but they’re leaning up against a wall next to each other, pressed as close as they can get side-to-side. John’s arms are folded across his chest so that his fingers are brushing against Alex’s arm, and Alex’s thumb is hooked in his pocket so that his fingers are pressed against John’s thigh.

It’s about as PG as you can get, but John’s solid warmth against his side is still enough to send something in Alex’s chest fluttering madly, especially when John laughs at something he’s said, tipping his head back to bare the freckled column of his neck to Alex’s hungry gaze. And, for daring to enjoy the moment too much, the universe sends him a check for his hubris in the form of Thomas Jefferson, debate club member and Alex’s worst nightmare, wandering around the corner to ruin it.

He clocks them right as John is putting an inch of space between them, fast but not fast enough. Alex’s side feels cold in his sudden absence.

“So this is where you hide when you’re not making a fool yourself on the stage,” Jefferson drawls, eyes flicking over John in a way that Alex really doesn’t enjoy. Assessing and dismissing in one breath.

“Making a fool of you, you mean,” Alex says, dismissively. “Not that you need much help. Willy Wonka give you a good deal on that jacket?” 

Thomas’ elegant fingers flick some non-existent lint from the front of the purple, crushed-velvet monstrosity that he’s sporting. Alex wonders where he even buys the stuff he wears, and more importantly, why. Thomas gives Alex a smile, sharp, that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I suppose it’s understandable, your lack of taste in these areas. You can’t have seen much of it, growing up on that backward little island of yours.” 

Alex sense rather than sees John shift beside him, and as tempting as the thought of watching him square off against Jefferson is, even Alex can tell it’s a bad idea. He reaches out his hand to press a reassuring touch to John’s shoulder. Thomas notices it immediately.

“Oh, I meant no offence,” he says, in a completely disingenuous show of concern. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like, that’s all. You must feel so lucky to have made it here, Hamilton.”

“Luckier on the days I don’t have to see you, Jefferson,” Alex says, because getting started on how hard he worked to make it here isn’t much going to prove anything right now. And anyway, he’d rather decimate Jefferson on stage, later, where everyone can witness it, than waste words on him out here. Jefferson seems to sense he’s not getting a rise with that shit, not today, and his gaze drifts back to John once more.

“And you’re what? His boyfriend?”

“Actually I’m single right now,” Alex answers before John is forced to actually get involved, pulling Thomas’ attention back to himself with the lie that he manages to play off with a casualness that he hates. “Thanks for asking; did you have someone in mind? If it’s you, Jefferson, I’ll save you the trouble: I’m flattered, but you’re really not my type. I prefer a guy who doesn’t have to fill the empty void where his personality should be with money.”

Thomas’ lip curls, and Alex presses a hand to his chest in feigned surprise.

“Oh—shit, was that supposed to be an insult? My bad. Go again, I’m ready this time. If you give me a minute, I might be able squeeze out a tear or two if I can think of something tragic enough. Ooh, how about your win/lose ratio? That might do the trick.” 

Thomas sniffs once, turns on his heel, and stalks off.

“Asshole,” Alex says contemplatively as he rounds the corner. “As if I could do better than you.”

He casts a glance up and down the corridor, but it’s just as quiet and empty as it had been five minutes ago, before Thomas had intruded on their peace. He hooks a finger into John’s belt loop to tug him back closer once more, banishing that hated space between him, and leans in to press a kiss against his lips. Just something chaste, and quick, just because he’s not gonna see John all weekend and Monday feels like it’s years away.

John tenses up, his lips unmoving against Alex’s.

And yeah, okay, fair; Alex knows well enough that John can’t go parading this kind of thing around. Too much to lose, unlike Alex, even in an empty corridor after hours. Still, the disappointment stings bitter on his tongue as he shrinks back, levels a lop-sided smile at John that’s only a little rueful.

“Sorry,” he shrugs. “Listen, if you’re sticking around can you do me a favour and time my closing? I think I shaved off enough for competition but it’s hard for me to speak naturally when I’m timing myself at home.”

“Alex,” John says, and reaches out for his arm, like he’s scared that Alex is gonna run off, disappear off into the auditorium and not come back. Drops it again before he actually takes hold, not quite sure what to do.

“It’s good, man. You’re good,” Alex says, because it sucks but Alex wasn’t born this scrappy, had to work for it, and he’s not going to grudge John for not wielding himself like an act of defiance the way that Alex has learned to, even if frustrates him sometimes. “I get it, seriously. Just don’t let Jefferson of all people get to you.”

He slides his phone out of his pocket to check the time, kisses his teeth.

“I gotta go. Text me that time if you stay, yeah?”

With a flash of a smile, he disappears off, shunting away the mild melancholy of his thoughts of being able to kiss John any damn time he pleases with the facts and figures and words he’s been crafting and cutting for weeks, now. And when he steps forward and catches sight of a head of curly hair off to his right?

     For now, it’s enough.