#i get that its summer and her and her boyfriend are free or whatever

[maxaroniiiii]

i wish that i were allowed to ask my sidter to get off the phone wothout suddenly being the worst person on earth

[jules-loves-lukecastellan]

i have a request for luke taking care of you on your period 💗 thank youuuu :)

| luke castellan x fem! aphrodite! reader

౨ৎ warnings ౨ৎ: periods (??)

౨ৎ summary ౨ৎ: you’re on your period and luke takes care of you. (ik i said aphrodite reader but that doesn’t play into the plot at all so feel free to change it <3)

“I never knew you could be this scary…”

you were dying. a million knives stabbed into your body as you cried out for help. that’s what your period felt like to you. cramps made you want to end it all. you were laying in your bed, not DARING to move because even if you moved a muscle, your whole body would ache like someone stabbing you with a sword over and over again.

“what would happen if i just ended my life?” you thought to yourself. “these cramps would sure go away.” as you were talking to your inner-self about k*ll*ng yourself, you saw luke, your wonderful, amazing boyfriend lay down beside you.

“hey princess. what’s got you so tense?” luke asked, about to hug you. “get. your. fucking hands. away from me.” you said in a very serious tone while making a very serious face. luke instantly retracted his hands and his expression changed from happy to worried. “what happened angel? are you sick? did i do something wrong?”

then, all of the sudden, you started bawling you eyes out while barely getting out, “n-no i’m on my st-stu-stupid period and you didn’t h-hu-hug meeeeeeee!!!” you cry with big tears streaming down your face and off your chin.

luke registers what’s happening and automatically scoops you into his strong arms, kissing your tears away. “hey hey hey. it’s ok. i’m sorry. i love you so much sunshine. i’m sorry i didn’t hug you.” he says in a very empathetic tone. you continue to cry and he continues to whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you stop crying.

you sniff and shakily say, “sorry babe. i’m just hurting and i hate life.” “no no it’s okay. i don’t blame you at all. it’s not your fault you deal with these cramps!” he says hugging you and kissing your neck. just then, he had an idea. “i’ll be right back angel. i’m not leaving i just forgot something in my cabin ok?” he asked, making sure it. was ok to leave you. “ok..” you say a little suspiciously.

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as luke is walking out of your cabin, he think who to go to about this stuff. then it hits him like an arrow hitting the bullseye. clarisse and annabeth. first he goes to the athena cabin to see annabeth. he knocks on the door and coincidentally, annabeth answers. “oh hey luke. what do i owe the pleasure of?” she asks curiously.

“hey annie. i was wondering if you had any of those uh.. things you stick in to stop from bleeding? i think they’re called tampons?” he asks while whispering the word “tampons”. annabeth rolls her eyes at his slight immaturity and shut the door in his face.

just as luke is about to walk away, the doors opens again and annabeth stands there with all kinds of tampons. “before i give these to you, who are these for exactly?” she asks, cocking a brow. “oh. they’re for y/n. she’s on her period and im making her a bay basket.” (i mean bay basket cuz like its summer and bay yknow? i thought it was clever lol).

“oh wow. that sucks for her. tell her i say feel better .” annabeth says before smiling and shutting the door. next, luke went to clarisse. he was just about to walk towards her cabin when he found her irritating a kid. “hey clarisse that’s not nice. knock it off” luke says, giving the kid a chance to run away. “whatever luke. what do you want?” clarisse asks as she starts walking back to her cabin.

“well y/n’s on her period and i’m making her a bay basket. i was wondering if you could help me get some stuff she might like since you’re her best friend.” luke says, fidgeting with his hands. as soon as luke says “y/n” clarisse’s mood instantly changes to happy and she energetically exclaims, “of course i’ll help you! i love y/n.”

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luke is walking back to the aphrodite cabin with a basket filled with a pink fluffy blanket, a whole bunch of chocolate, tampons, a squishmallow (don’t ask how he got all these “human” things from camp half blood lol), fake pink roses (so they never die), a candle, and some extra goodies like his hoodie and matching pajama pants with him.

he knocks on the door and you open it, looking angry at who disturbed you. but your expression softened instantly when you saw it was luke. you pulled him inside as he presented the bay basket. “surprise! you should not be going through this much pain on your period so i hope i could make it a little better.” he said while smiling from ear to ear.

you look at the basket and then at luke as you take it and set it down. you walk over to luke and throw your arms around him, jumping and wrapping your legs around his waist. “thank you thank you thank you!” you says while crying because of how happy you are.

the rest of the day/week is filled with luke, luke, and more luke until you’re finally done with pain (for now hehe).

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౨ৎ a/n ౨ৎ- i hope that i fulfilled ur request lol <3 i had sm fun writing this!! feel free to request any more u want!🫶🏻🫶🏻

-jules🎀

⋆𖦹.✧˚taglist⋆𖦹.✧˚

@t0byisher3 @simrah1012 @mimisamisasa @lizziesfirstwife

[ilovebuckers5]

.·:·.✧ Say No ✧.·:·.

NIka Muhl x Fem!Reader

"your probably having good times with a bad boy"

word count - 2.1k

themes:

-angst if u squint

-slight sexual content

-light fluff

A/N - this is gonna be a short series but I wrote this in honor of the weather getting warmer and so that I'm not so depressed about Nika leaving. sorry its so short..

Me and Nika Muhl started dating July 7th of 2022. It was a regular summer day in California. The entire team decided to go on a vacation together. It was hard leaving Connecticut to go hang out with the team I had just joined but oh whatever. The only downside to his trip was my shitty boyfriend.

Ex. Ex boyfriend sorry.

I had a mango smoothie in hand and watched as Paige and Azzi splashed each other with the bluest of waters. Every couple seconds I'd feel a breeze rush against my exposed collarbones. Even as the sun was beating down on me I felt so fresh and clean and free. My fingers felt around the sand I was sitting in. My eyes drifted from the ocean to the sky which was painted with oranges and yellows with pinky tones in-between. I took a sip from my smoothie before looking to my ride to find a creation brunette sitting down next to me. A soft smile was placed on her face as she made herself comfortable next to me.

Throughout the time that I was on this team, me and Nika barely talked outside of game days and team dinners. If I'm being honest, This summer was going to be my designated time to get closer with her. So her openly sitting next to me was a major step.

"Hey" her eyes flashed from the sand to me.

I quickly shaped my lips into a smile and looked into Nika's eyes.

"Hi theree"

I noticed her hands were wrapped around the handle of a beige tote bag. She let go of the bag to rest her hands against her chest as she laid herself down. Her sunglasses were black with a slightly lighter lens. She had on a bright blue bikini that the ends of her hair grazed ever so slightly. I felt her eyes linger towards mine as I admired her features.

"Sorry we haven't gotten to talk a lot in the past couple months" she said softly, accent thick.

"Your good. We have the whole summer to make up for it so don't worry" I kept my eyes locked on the ocean.

Up until now I thought Nika was the mean point guard who everyone was petrified by. And I was very convinced that they had a reason. But now talking to her face to face I felt myself grow confused on how this could've gotten around.

"Why aren't you out in the water huh?" The brunette said pointing to the ocean.

I shrugged my shoulders and turned my head to face Nika.

"I forgot my suit" an excuse quickly slipped out.

"Oh sure.." Nika said under her breath, clearly not believing me

Our conversation eventually died out so I decided to pull out a book from my beach bag. I flipped through the pages to find my last place and began reading. as I got lost in the words I didn't even realize that Nika had gotten up to go swim with the other girls. I peered through the top of my book to see Nika gently slipping her feet into the water. Ines quickly jumped onto Nika's back like a toddler on her mom. I couldn't help but giggle at the sight of Nika getting absolutely dunked into the water. Everyone but me and Qadence were in the water. I almost forgot I was even reading by the time Nika looked at me. I was caught staring at her. in a bikini. shit. I quickly darted my eyes down into my book and pretended that nothing happened.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once the team got back to the hotel we were staying at the only thing I could focus on was trying to avoid Nika. Of course it was my luck that I happened to room with her. What a coincidence. I walked through the door of our room and set my flower printed bag on my bed and showered before doing anything else. I played my favorite summer playlist and left my clothes on the floor before stepping into the shower. My mind kept going back to the beach and seeing Nika in her bathing suit. Fuck. Doesn't she have a boyfriend or something? I cant be thinking this shit. But the way her hair was all wet and her laugh was so addicting to remember. The hot water running down my back along with the thought of Nika sent chills along my arms effortlessly.

I kept trying to focus on whatever SZA song was playing on my speaker but failed miserably. Soon enough I got out of the shower and slipped on a silk pajama set on. I braided my hair tightly and cleaned up the bathroom before turning the light off and leaving. When I got out of the bathroom the bedroom was still empty. Thank god. I flipped open my computer and turned on Outer Banks before pulling out my sketch book.

I came up with a rule before I came to UConn. The rule was that after everyday I have to draw anything that comes to mind until my mind is clear. Whether its cleared of happiness or anger. And I stuck to it.

Of course I had to draw the ocean and sand and all those beach like things. Before I knew it, I was drawing Nika. With her hair up with her hair down. In her bikini, in the outfit she wore yesterday and the day before. The was the first day that I had to shut my sketch book before my mind was clear because what the fuck was I doing. I couldn't be drawing Nika like a fucking psychopath. I stuffed my book into my suitcase and laid down on my bed. Time flew by as I watched more episodes of Outer Banks. So much time went by that when I was about to click 'next episode' to watch the last episode of season 3, Paige knocked on the door. Her head peeked through slowly. she had a devious smile on her lips and just like that her, Azzi, KK, Ice, and Nika busted through my door giggling and jumping around. Great they got high without me. I quickly protected my computer by closing it and putting it on my nightstand. Azzi crawled on top of my bed and sat next to me, placing her head on my shoulder.

While everyone laughed around hitting each other with pillows, I saw Nika standing in the corner on her phone. Her eyes seemed to get less and less dilated the more she tapped her thumbs aggressively on her screen. I stood up and walked up to her.

"You good?" I tried to not be nosey but gave up and looked down at her phone. She slowly handed it to me to show a text that her "boyfriend" sent. They broke up.

I quickly wrapped my arms around Nika and squeezed her tightly.

"He's going to be missing out on a lot love dont' worry"

Nika couldn't help but let a couple tears roll down her face. Just as I thought she was going to collapse and sob into my arms she pulled away and stared into my eyes menacingly. Her fingers quickly wrapped around my hand and began dragging me to the side. I looked up to see Nika leading me outside into the hallway. she led me all the way to Paige and Azzi's room. Without any hesitation she shut the door and locked it behind her.

"Nika what are you doi-" I began to say

"Shut up please."

Before even realizing what was happening I felt Nika press her lips against mine. A small gasp left my mouth but it wasn't a gasp that said I don't want to do this it was a gasp that said don't stop. My tongue quickly found its place against hers. Her hand lifted my thigh up against her hips and I quickly followed what she was doing by lifting my other leg up around her waist. She lifted my entire body up against hers and carried me to the other wall. She pressed my back against the wall and moved her lips down my neck, pausing in-between kisses to leave marks around each vein. My hands were wrapped around the back of her neck, my nails slightly dug into her skin the lower she got.

"Off." She said sternly once her lips reached the edge of my pajama top.

I didn't pause to think about anything and took off my top revealing my sports bra. Her fingers teased at the hem of my pants clearly wanting to take them off. Unfortunately for her it wasn't that easy.

"uh uh. you first"

I looked her dead in the eye and ran my hands across her tank top. Her hand released my waist, not changing the grip my legs had onto her waist. She slipped off her black tank top without breaking our eye contact. Her lips immediately gravitated back to my chest. I couldn't help but let out a soft whine as her lips made their way closer to my stomach.

"I can tell this is what you meant by getting to know each other" she spat before placing a kiss on my lips as she slipped off my pajama bottoms.

"Mind reader much?" I said in response

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The morning after everything that happened that night was unbearable. My eyes slowly blinked open to see Nika laying on my chest. Calm breaths left her mouth followed by a couple snores. I gently slipped out from under her and got dressed. As I walked into the bathroom I realized that I was definitely not in my room. We were both still in Paige and Azzi's room. Fuck fuck fuck.

Before even thinking, I rushed out of the room leaving Nika and ran to my room. The first thing I saw was Paige, Azzi, KK, and Ice laying on me and Nika's beds. Limbs sprawled out and everything. I chose to ignore the girls and ran to he bathroom to brush my teeth and clean myself up before Nika woke up. Once my hair was brushed out I slicked it back into a ponytail and got changed into a light orange sweater and grey Nike shorts. My feet were thankfully covered with a pair of socks. After I got changed and fixed myself up, I rushed back to Paige and Azzi's room to find a still asleep Nika laying on Paige's bed. She was now cuddled up onto the pillow I previously was sleeping on. Her hair was clearly tangled and her mascara was smudged.

I decided to do the most cringey and kidney of weird thing ever but who cares. I grabbed makeup remover and a brush from my bag and started by taking off her mascara. This woke Nika up quickly but she didn't do anything about it but groan. Once her mascara was off, I completely woke her up and helped her sit up so that I could brush her hair. Gently teasing through the tangles, I brushed through her hair. Her eyes were still mainly closed but she still tried her best to loop up at me as I gave her a mini makeover. Not that she needed it.

Once we were both fixed up a word still wasn't exchanged. Just giggling every few minutes. The both of us chose to ignore whatever happened last night even though we were both VERY aware that what happened well. Happened.

The rest of the day went by smoothly. Not many people asked what we were doing in Paige and Azzi's room surprisingly. a few glances were shared throughout the day whether it was when we went out to go shopping or when we went to shoot free throws for fun.

The same thing happened almost every night for the next week. Nika would be in whatever mood she was in so she'd crawl into my arms and lay there until we got each other's clothes off. We stayed like that for what felt like forever until July hit. Things began to get more innocent if you could use that word. The girls began to notice how close we were and how it took us a while to get up out of bed every couple of days. We decided to clear up everything and you know. Date.

Of course not everyone agreed with this. When we made things official, two specific men had very strong opinions about this. Of course when things were officiated my mind was completely blank when it came to the fact that I still had a boyfriend. A shitty one but still.

Now I'm not saying that cheating was the right thing but I mean…it's Nika Muhl who could say no.

[moonswolfie]

Kenma, suna, and tsukishima with a gf that loves to baby them? Like she loves dressing them up, dotes on them, and acts liek their parent sometimes? Thanx!

HELLO THERE EVERYONE

i return with a request and a new theme 😏 thank u so much for requesting🩵 i know i just changed my theme but i'm already making pinterest boards for new themes ITS JUST SO FUN!

in case you couldn't tell the reader is fem!

ALSO SUMMER HOLIDAYS!?!??! Its nice to finally be free...

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ Tsukishima Kei

"I'm worried about you, you know." you placed your head in your hands, leaning your elbows on the table. "Really, it should be the other way around. You don't know this even though it should be basic knowledge." Tsukishima sighed, ready to go over the biology lesson with you for the hundreth time already.

"Do you get enough sleep? Your eyebags are looking a little big lately. Do you eat enough? You look stressed. You always tell me you're fine, but-"

"I'm fine." Tsukishima brushed you off, looking back at the notebook.

"What are you pouting like a toddler for?" when he looked back up at you, he was seriously baffled by the similarity of your face to a little kid who got refused to eat candy. Though, maybe, just maybe, he finds it kind of cute. Maybe.

"We're done studying." you got up from the dining table, placing your hands on your hips. "You do realise I'm only doing this because you asked, right? And you're the one still struggling with this subject, last time I checked." he furrowed his brows slightly.

"I won't be able to study in peace until I see you sleeping peacefully in bed after a good meal. We can start with the sleep and I'll cook something later!" you were determined to take care of him now. Sometimes your boyfriend's aloof attitude towards his well being and towards everything in general makes you worry. Whenever he replies with a simple "I'm fine" you must dote on him for a bit. That's the rule.

It looked like he was weighing his choices for a brief moment before sighing and saying "Fine, just don't come crying when you fail this test tommorow."

"Yaaaay, I'll be up in your room, ready to tuck you in!" you pecked his lips, spun around on your heels and ran upstairs to his room.

Tsukishima sighed, closing his notebook. When he looked to the doorway, his mom was standing there and smiling at him. He immediately tensed up, worrying about just how much of your conversation she heard.

"You know, your girlfriend would make a good mom. I'm just saying." Tsukishima's mom smiled at her son cheekily. He hid his face, not moving for a good thirty seconds before practically sprinting to his room.

He never did tell you why he looked so red upon arriving in his room.

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ Suna Rintaro

"Is all of this really neccessary?" Suna raised one of his perfect brows when you placed another shirt in his arms. You took him out for a shopping trip today. Your shopping trips always end with him walking out the mall with a whole new closet instead of the other way around.

He always insists that he doesn't need new clothes or much of anything, but you always end up convincing him into a mall trip. You spoil him rotten, to be honest. Not that he minds.

"Yeah, how else am I going to keep you well-dressed?" you urged him to the dressing room just so you can clap excitedly at every outfit he puts on and models for you. He already looks like one, so why not take advantage of that, right?

"Okay, whatever you say, babe." Suna rolled his eyes playfully and walked into the changing room. You were squealing excitedly at each outfit he appeared in from behind the curtain like a crazy fangirl.

He didn't seem too enthusiastic about some of the outfits which made you sad but for the most part, you had loads of fun. He was taking a while with the last outfit, though. And you were probably overreacting, but you got worried.

You just can't help but worry for your boyfriend sometimes, even if it is unwarranted. It's kind of your thing. One time he accidentally cut his finger and you spent every moment together with him pressing get better kisses on it. You made sure he changed the bandaid every day, too. You were comically worried about him being able to attend volleyball practice. And that's just one of the examples.

So you pulled back the curtain.

"A little privacy, please?" Your boyfriend was standing in the changing room in all of his shirtless glory. You never really thought about it until now, but Suna is fit. You suppose it makes sense, considering he plays volleyball, but still. He was smiling at you cheekily, probably amused by how dumbfounded you look right now.

"I... um, it's... I was just worried about you! And put your shirt back on, you'll catch a cold!" You don't think you've ever closed a curtain as fast before.

You could hear Suna laugh to himself behind the curtain. "Sure, sure, mom. But I think you were just trying to be a little sneaky."

Well, you still ended up spoiling your boyfriend with new clothes that day, but you ended up with an accidental gift of your own, too. Maybe being a worrywart isn't that bad sometimes.

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ Kozume Kenma

"Um, I can eat on my own..." Kenma gently pushed away your hand, which was holding food to his mouth.

"Oh, we both know you wouldn't eat at all if I didn't hand feed you. You seriously need to lay off the videogames sometimes." You playfully rolled your eyes, putting the piece of food back to his mouth. He sighed with exasperation and begrudgingly ate the piece of food.

"And besides, you know how much I love spoiling you. I can't resist when you're just... too cute." you pulled on his cheek like an overly excited grandma.

The thing about Kenma is, he hates that he likes being babied by you. When his mom used to do it, he found it overbearing and annoying, but when you hand feed him, it kind of feels comforting. Then again though, he can't focus on the videogame because of that. So that's why he hates it.

"I could go without the... ugh." Kenma was just about to beat the level, but you placing another piece of food in front of his face distracted him for just a moment, which made him get a game over.

"Oh..." you stared at the game over screen, suddenly feeling bad for being a distraction. You just can't help but want to baby him whenever you're with him. He doesn't exactly make it hard for you with the way he blushes and gets all embarrased every single time.

"Well then, I was just thinking you played enough videogames today. I propose we do something else." you pulled on Kenma's arm and he protested by giving you one of his iconic scowls.

"You'll get wrinkles if you frown too much." you reminded him with a gentle smile. He mumbled something you couldn't quite catch under his breath and reached for the controller.

"Oh no. No you don't." you tackled Kenma before he could do anything else. You know, if he wasn't so damn flustered right now, he would have been seriously mad. But when you smile at him like that, it's like his anger decides to get up and leave.

"Would you... umm, mind getting off me?" he was worried that he might overheat like his dad's poor laptop which he forced to run videogames far beyond its capabilities. Now he feels bad for that old thing.

"Only if you promise that we go for a little walk outside." he grumbled at first but ended up agreeing after you gave him a little kiss on the cheek as encouragement.

[littleslaywrites]

pas de deux | spencer reid x bau!reader 

summary: you’re a ballet dancer in your spare time. when you get injured, spencer is there to help you recover.

based on ask: “can i request a spencer reid x reader where our reader (who does something like figure skating, gymnastics, cheer, ballet, etc, in her spare time) gets injured on the job and realizes that also affects her hobby? and spencer helps her find a new hobby while she's in recovery and it's just super fluffy and cute” 

word count: 1.8k

cw: f!reader, basically just fluff, slight angst kinda, description of injury (knee hyperextension), boyfriend!spencer, reader is an intern at the bau and becomes a member of the team

Ballet has always been there for you, even when nobody else was. You had been dancing your whole life, from age three all the way until now, spending your time after work in the studio. Although you chose not to major in dance in college, it was your solace, always waiting after a long day.

Spencer was the first person you had met that made you feel like ballet did. When you started your internship over the summer at the BAU, he was there for you without being patronizing. He understood you like nobody else had. You felt free around him, always excited to see him when you got home. Best of all, he was perfectly fine sharing your attention with ballet. When you had your first performance after meeting him, before he even asked you on your first date, he was waiting in the front row with the biggest bouquet of flowers you’d ever seen. From that night on, he was at every opening and closing night you had.

After graduating, you were promoted from intern to an official member of the team, and Spencer promoted you from crush to girlfriend. That winter, you were doing a production of The Nutcracker in D.C. at the Washington Ballet. Every night after work, you’d make the drive to rehearsal. It was a tight schedule, but the love you had for it ensured it was never a burden. 

It was a routine case, local, so you didn’t even have to fly out. Garcia had traced the unsub’s location, sending the team to a house in some unsuspecting suburb. 

The SUV pulled into the driveway, you sitting in the passenger seat while Morgan drove. Rossi and JJ were right behind you, so you didn’t hesitate to go inside the house. As Morgan kicked down the door, you saw the unsub make a run for it. You followed, but in your hurry, you didn’t realize there was a step up into the room you were rushing into. 

You realized you were tripping as it happened, swearing internally at your mindlessness. You felt your ankle twist, and you tried to save the fall by putting your knee down. You felt it hit the ground, buckling and bending back, pain shooting through the back of your leg. Morgan was ahead of you, already taking down the unsub, so your fall went unnoticed until JJ came through the door.

As JJ came to your side, your first thought wasn’t the injury, but the embarrassment you felt. Within your first three months as an official member of the BAU, you managed to injure yourself because you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings.

Laying flat on your stomach, you heard JJ ask if you were okay. You murmured something, trying to push yourself up to your feet. You’d had little injuries in ballet, so you surely could handle whatever you just did. But as you tried to stand, the throbbing pain in your knee made itself known. You bit your tongue to stifle yourself from crying out in pain. 

Your attempt to stand failing, you rolled over to your back and sat up, looking at the damage. You cringed away as you looked at your knee, bent in the opposite direction as it should be. Biting your lip, you carefully straightened your leg back out to its regular position, sighing as the pain set it. JJ called out for a medic, and you braced yourself for the consequences of your mistake.

Spencer is trailing behind the first two cars, arriving as the unsub is being led to the police car that was waiting outside. When he hears JJ call out for the medic over the radio, he immediately panics, mind going to the worst case scenario about you. As he climbs out of the passenger seat, he sees you hobbling into the back of an ambulance, arm around JJ’s shoulder. He jogs over to you, trying to see around the EMT who’s working on your knee.

“What happened, y/n?” he asks, trying not to sound too concerned but failing. 

“It seems like she hyperextended her knee,” the medic replies for you. “She should try to stay off of it for a month. I’m getting her a brace now.”

You’re looking down at your hands, not wanting to face the concerned look in Spencer’s eyes. Of course, you’re grateful someone cares about you in the way he does, but it makes you embarrassed to know you caused the concern. 

“I have a ballet performance in two months–” you begin, before the medic cuts you off.

“Absolutely not,” the medic says. “You’ll be on crutches for half that time, and you shouldn’t put any excess pressure on it for at least 12 weeks.”

This news shatters your heart. You know the medic’s careless attitude can’t be attributed to cruelty, he’s probably busy and wanting to get onto the next job, but his words still make your eyes water. Knowing the rest of the team is already moved onto wrapping up the case, you let a silent tear fall, still refusing to look away from your lap.

When the medic leaves to fill out some form, Spencer moves in close to you, lifting your chin to make eye contact with you. The look in his eyes is full of concern and understanding, only causing more tears to come.

“Hey,” he pulls you into a hug. “I know,” he comforts as you cry. 

You’re sure your face is burning from embarrassment, both from being injured and now crying in the middle of a crime scene. You bury your face in his neck so nobody else can see you.

He knows what losing ballet means to you, especially losing your role in the show. He doesn’t have to tell you that he understands, the way he holds you says it clearly. 

“You know, just before you started your internship, I got shot in the leg and was on crutches. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he comforts.

“Spencer, that wasn’t your fault,” you sigh out, “I tripped and fell. That’s all on me.”

He looks at you, knowing nothing he says can change your mind. “At least you won’t have to get on the plane for a while.” 

“What if I like being on the plane?” you ask back.

“You don’t,” he answers, a smirk on the sides of his lips as he tries not to smile at your commitment to being miserable.

You see him trying not to smile, and a laugh breaks up your crying. Spencer brushes away a tear that rolled down your face, joining in your giggles. 

“My stubborn girl,” he says lovingly, leaning down to kiss you.

The EMT clears his throat, and you take that as your signal to head back to the station.

Resting at home wasn’t easy for you. Despite your protests, Spencer got Hotch to give you two weeks off. You felt useless sitting around your shared apartment, not even able to clean with your reliance on the crutches. 

Even worse was when you had to call the company to tell them you wouldn’t be able to perform. You knew your understudy would do well, but giving up the role was heartbreaking nonetheless.

Spencer knew how devastated you were losing your passion, your escape from reality. His solution is to scour his bookshelves for whatever he thought you might like. You didn’t mind reading, but you’d lost your enthusiasm for it in college when you were swamped by textbooks and research papers. Spencer made it his mission to overcome that, knowing there had to be something you’d love.

The night before your first day alone on leave, you were laying in bed. Spencer had taken longer than usual to join you. Unable to go through the effort to get out of bed, you call out “Whatcha doing out there, Spencer?”

“You’ll see,” he replies. His secrecy makes you smile. You can tell he’s in this study from where his voice came from. Your curiosity is piqued, but you don’t want to spoil whatever surprise he has in store, so you just lay back down. Eventually, he joins you in bed, snuggling as close as he can while still being careful of your knee. The comfort of his arms pulls you into sleep.

When you wake up the next morning, he’s fully dressed, laying out clothes for you on the dresser. He helps you get dressed, even though it’s completely unnecessary. You’re not as injured as he acts like you are, which frustrates you, even though it comes from a place of love. Still, you're grateful he helps you get ready before he makes his way to the door to leave for the workday.

“You’d think I was as breakable as an egg from the way you act,” you say, crutching over to the door as he picks up his bag.

“I don’t know, y/n, you fell pretty easily,” he teases, soft brown eyes meeting yours to show that he means nothing, simply poking fun at you. You wish you could reach out and run your hands through his hair, but you’re held back by your crutches. Spencer’s probably grateful for that part of your injury, since he isn’t fixing his hair every few hours because you couldn’t resist playing with it.

Rolling your eyes at his quips, he leans down to kiss you. “I’ll miss you, Humpty Dumpty,” he says playfully. You scoff, faking insult, as he walks away and opens the door. “And, by the way,” he stops himself, “I left a surprise on the coffee table to you.” He closes the door, and you remember him in the study last night.

When you go to sit on the couch, you see a stack of books with a note on the top. Setting the crutches lazily on the floor, you pick up the note, reading:

I looked through my books and found a few I thought you might enjoy. Hopefully, they can take you to another world while you’re stuck on the couch. Love you, Spencer.

P.S. Ice packs are in the freezer.

You smile at his words reaching for the stack. Each book has a note placed inside on why you might like them. Anna Karenina because he remembered (of course he did) when you told him you performed in the ballet adaptation in high school. The Grapes of Wrath to remind you of your home state, California. Misery since you loved horror movies as much as he did, so he thought you might like a horror book. Animal Farm if you wanted something shorter but thought-provoking. Jurassic Park because, as he wrote, “everyone loves dinosaurs”. 

You smiled at the gesture, picturing him going through all of his books and choosing the ones he thought would help you forget about what your injury took away. Even with him at work, you felt his love in the stack of books, the notes he left, the coffee he left you on the table. He was your partner in crime, trusting him in the pas de deux of life.

You leaned back on the couch, picking up the first book from the stack, already anticipating discussing your readings with Spencer when he got back from work.

author's note: I absolutely LOVED writing this one. By the end it was totally self indulgent becuase I was having too much fun. It may or may not be totally based on myself. Since it’s nutcracker season I made that the show y/n was performing in. Also the books mentioned are all some of my favs. I pictured season 6/7 Spencer while writing but that has pretty much no impact on the story lol. @kakamixoxo I love you for this request and I literally had so much fun writing it!

[pearlypairings]

Pssst.

Hey.

Hey you...

I did something, mmm, kinda out of the ordinary for my usual writing routine. AKA started a fic that's not hellcheer for once😅 forgive me Father Eddie, for I have sinned—

jonathan x chrissy | wip : 6k wc | slowburn, angst, eventual fluff | ch 2/?

summary: a photography commission from the unofficial Queen of Hawkins for her boyfriend sends introverted Jonathan Byers on a reluctant journey, discovering not all cheerleaders are the same. Some are very observant, thoughtful, and even full of self-doubt and responsibility like him...

read below the line for a preview :)

Jonathan carefully plucked the latest batch of photos from the first wash bin. The darkroom was bathed in red with the faint hum of the safelights burrowing into the background, Jonathan’s focus undeterred by the constant buzzing. Whenever he pulled those heavy darkroom curtains closed, he drifted into another world, a state of perfect flow for his work.

Last weekend he’d spent over 6 hours stalking through the woods, hoping to find the perfect overcast shadows over Skull Rock or a fawn grazing on the new growth at the edge of the pines. Instead, Jonathan had stumbled upon the ruins of a Hawkins High party, practically apocalyptic in nature with the way cans, bottles, and clothes were left strewn about the brush and the earth floor.

He had nearly rushed through the littered party ruins until a glint of the noon sun caught his eye. Under the cover of a weedy fern, a dainty gold necklace glimmered in the light, half-covered in patches of dirt and surrounded by a heavy shoe print, a thick-soled sneaker by the looks of the imprint. It was almost too poetic; the year of his graduation stuck out from under the dirt, bathed in a golden light, while the chain buckled under the dirt and grime of the life around it, like dismal foreshadowing.

Minutes ticked on as he adjusted his camera’s lens for a close-up, leaning back on his left foot to get the angle just right for the flare above the "86" pendant. He snapped two just in case—keeping his fingers crossed that he captured the foreboding atmosphere. There was something magnetic about it.

The rest of the afternoon he shot about a dozen more photos, including a rabbit poking its head out from its burrow which the older Hawkins folk would adore, a family of mossy stones congregating by a snaking vine, and a majestic hawk, brownish in color, opening its wide wingspan from its perch on the pine tree.

Not his best nature photography by his own scale, but there had to be something usable for the Hawkins Post, who always seemed in need of decent local photography to accompany their articles. He’d already been featured twice this past summer from his photos of the town fair and the downtown block party.

Jonathan had to wait until today to process the film; Tuesdays were when Mrs. Franklin unlocked the school’s darkroom for the school newspaper, The Weekly Streak, and the yearbook club. Jonathan had joined both groups in order to utilize the room for free and made sure to at least do the bare minimum for each club meeting. Mrs. Franklin turned a blind eye whenever he brought in his own film to develop, casually complimenting his artsy photos of sad, empty parking lots, once even slipping him a Lincoln to tuck a portrait of a distant stranger at Lover’s Lake into her spiral agenda.

Being a senior meant he only had one more year to take advantage of free film developing, a perk he never took for granted, since his part-time job at the Hawk barely covered the extra groceries at home—let alone stuff for Jonathan’s expensive hobby. Film added up pretty quickly, so whatever change was left over from his paycheck, he scrimped and saved until he could buy another 33mm cartridge from Melvald’s. The supplies for developing were way more than that and harder to conserve. With that somber idea in mind, he took care in transferring the first three photos from the prep solution to the next chemical mixture, not wasting a single scrap of this opportunity.

Some days he wondered if the acrid fumes helped or hindered him, the chemicals seeping into the air with a heavy, almost-metallic smell. As a freshman, it used to burn his nose, his eyes, any of the sensitive sources for sensation. Three years of experience later, he barely noticed any odor, having drifted with the humming of the safelights into the background of his awareness.

With the last slosh of the bath, Jonathan nearly jumped with the classroom light suddenly poking through the slit of the door creaking opening. If these photos were ruined, he’d have to start the painstakingly lengthy process all over again from the negatives. Fred Benson, another senior in the journalism club, had a habit of ignoring the “in use: keep out” sign and incidentally destroying all of Jonathan’s hardwork with his objectionable entrances.

Jonathan sighed, almost a groan by its volume, in exasperation. He didn’t have the energy to deal with Fred’s incessant questions right now; he always seemed to have special requests for his articles at the last minute. And while he claimed to prefer Jonathan’s work to the other student photographers, it never stopped him from making Jonathan retake photos of the same art class gallery or demanding another professional headshot for his college portfolio.

He covered the bins and snuck past the curtain protecting the developing photos, narrowing his eyes at the unwelcome thorn in his side. “Fr–”

“I’m sorry,” The voice that interrupted was sweet, meek even. Definitely not Fred’s weasley intonation and that caught Jonathan off guard. “Fred said it was okay to come in, but I should have waited—you look busy.”

Chrissy Cunningham shrunk her frame, her arms crossed over her cheer sweater, with the dip of her head showing off the blonde bangs perfectly coiffed over her brows......

More in the link:)

[slashingdisneypasta]

(M.I.) It's not my school break, it's the niblings, and when everyone else has to be out of the house I have to make sure they don't burn it down. In their case, siblings are for conspiring with immediately after they've tried to kill each other. (Also, I can confirm that not all siblings will get you toilet paper. TMI: A few years back, before we knew I had problems with my thyroid gland, things went wonky once a month. So, there I am, stranded on the toilet with stuff coming out of every orifice. I call my sister, who happens to be on the computer, telling her I need a bucket because the garbage can is full, and get back "lemme finish this angry birds level." Bruh?)

Anyway, at long last, here is the next part. Also on AO3. Sorry in advance lol

                             A Little Over One Month Later

Nathanstill has a sense of time. He put a calendar up in the kitchen not long after arriving, saying he preferred knowing what day it was after losing track living on the streets. The date wasn't nearly as important as keeping himself warm and fed...right up until he realized it was New Year's and couldn't face another three sixty-five of the same thing.

Which means with or without The Cafe reminding you, you know it's Valentine's Day. The day Blackie is required to make a date with you during your free time or risk being locked up together.

He's been avoiding you lately and The Cafe feels too empty, too often. Nathan doesn't occupy the space in quite the same way. He's here and the building takes care of him, but he can't fix the wrongness. When Blackie's gone, The Cafe's missing a piece of itself.

You'd even venture to say the building feels sad.

He's still doing his job -throwing out tests and temptations- just staying away as much as possible. Leaving as soon as everything is resolved. Before he can be forced to spend any time alone with you.

In hindsight, kissing him was a bad idea. His disappearance left you feeling like an idiot and The Cafe off-kilter. Maybe you should've asked before making the whole thing awkward, but you didn't think you were wrong for assuming a mutual interest. Not with the way he looked at you sometimes. You thought he was only waiting for a sign to make a move.

Now you know it was never going to happen. When the building does manage to catch him, he ignores you. No teasing that borders on flirting. Not even an acknowledgment you're in the room. More often than not, The Cafe is forced to give up and let both of you out. You still have to do your jobs, after all. And sleep.

You're extremely grateful the meddling matchmaker hasn't made the two of you share a bed. You just know Blackie would 'accidentally' roll over and knock you in the floor on principle.

It's lonely without him. You've gotten spoiled to having him around making you laugh. Making him laugh. Not the quick, sardonic chuckle reserved for those he's toying with. This one is slightly insane and higher-pitched than expected.

Nathan keeps making the whole thing worse, asking what's wrong with your boyfriend. No matter how often you remind him that's not the case. It's obvious he's doing it on purpose. A 'joking' manifestation of his unfair grudge against you. Of course you're glad he's cheering up, but he needs to find a new way to amuse himself. It's nowhere near as funny to you.

Kinda painful, actually.

Blackie had disappeared this morning as soon as The Cafe became visible, leaving you to wake up in a place that was tangibly moping. He won't be back until a customer shows up.

How he just...knows when its safe to return, you've no idea. But you'd like to. To somehow fake whatever pull the customers exert on him.

You have breakfast in the center booth, halfheartedly eating pancakes and sipping cocoa while staring wistfully at the palm trees growing by the road. No idea yet if it's winter or summer out there, only that no one's taking you surfing, regardless. Sure, you could go alone, but the activity is too strongly associated with him.

Besides, half the fun lies in Blackie taking verbal potshots at your skill on those increasingly rare occasions you fall. (It only happens outside. Inside, The Cafe's always keeps you safely on the board.) Which then gives you the right to slap water in his face. The splash fights are your favorite part.

"Boyfriend gone again," Nathan asks from his spot at the counter, nursing a black coffee and scrambled eggs.

"Shut up," you mutter resentfully.

You don't have the heart to fire back more than that. The remark hurts and you don't need him rubbing salt in the wound when it already sucks being lonely for someone who doesn't want you around.

The door swings in, admitting a tall woman with red hair; her green sundress and the burst of warm air giving away which hemisphere you've landed in. Her eyes fall on Nathan, widening in shock at the same time he chokes on his coffee. You recognize her at once from the clips of his past.

"Maureen," he rasps.

There's a sparkle of gold on her finger you don't think he's seen, yet.

"Nate."

You're guessing the shock on her face is down to finding a cafe staffed by her ex-husband here on the other side of the world. She doesn't know he's dead. John Doe has yet to be identified.

Nathan is visibly uncomfortable, but you only have a moment to enjoy it before the entire building seems to perk up. The air righting itself. He doesn't seem to notice, though you suppose he must or will eventually. It's impossible to spend much time with The Cafe and not become acquainted with its moods.

The traitor in your chest gives a painful thump. Blackie's here. And he's probably going to pretend you don't exist.

"Surprised to see you doing an honest job," Maureen snarks at Nathan.

Reality glitches and Blackie is watching the exchange through the kitchen window. You can't help smiling to see him there.

"I couldn't ask for a better employee" he pipes up.

The other two jump. You bristle at the apparent dig, smile fading. Normally, Blackie doesn't care much for Nathan. More than once, you've heard the former make a snide remark about losing everything after another 'boyfriend' jab. It doesn't make any sense for Blackie to be playing wingman...except as a subtle way of telling you he'd caught your moon-eyed expression. Reminding you he wasn't interested.

"That's even more surprising," Maureen remarks. She glances from Nathan and over her shoulder to the door. "Maybe I should-"

You know she has to stay awhile. That it's important for Nathan.

You're going to help, even if he's an ass who doesn't deserve it. Jumping up from your breakfast, you steer her into the first booth.

"At least get something to go," you suggest with a coaxing smile you hate to admit learning from Blackie. "You must be hungry."

"Those pancakes do look good."

"I can personally guarantee they are. Made them myself."

Nathan isn't allowed anywhere near your food no matter how often he cooks for others. You don't trust him not to spit in it.

"Make it a double order." Her expression turns guilty. "For my husband."

For a moment, you're confused. Then Nathan shoves his plate of eggs across the counter to clatter on the floor. Making you realize she meant the new one. You give him a disapproving look, feeling an answering twinge in the air. The building hates a messy floor almost as much as it hates boredom.

Blackie tsks, reaching down and producing a napkin you know came from nowhere. He drops it through the window onto the eggs. Nathan gets the hint. Making his way over to kneel in the floor with a heavy sigh, he starts gathering bits of scramble and depositing them onto the napkin.

"Might want a broom for the rest," you snark quietly on your way past.

"Shut up," he mutters, as resentful as you had been.

"Don't be rude, Nate," Blackie calls through the window, tone just cheerful enough to be insulting.

You almost smile again at the way Nathan glares. For a moment, you and Blackie are on the same side. The urge passes when he very deliberately and conspicuously -to you, at least- hangs back as you enter the kitchen at the same time he's trying to leave. 

He's gone the second you clear the door. Sauntering over and plunking himself down across from Maureen.

"Honeymoon or anniversary," he asks casually.

"Honeymoon." Followed by another uncomfortable glance at Nathan.

"Thought I detected a 'new bride' glow."

Through the window, you see Nathan rise hastily to his feet, storming off toward the men's room. Likely going to his own or wherever else it is he goes to sulk. You've never bothered to ask.

"I really should leave," Maureen says, moving to do just that.

"Don't worry about ol' Nate," Blackie says, disarming her with the same smile you'd borrowed. "He'll be fine when the shock wears off."

The pancakes are on the griddle, but The Cafe is making the process excrutiatingly slow. Dragging things out until it can do the same with Nathan. Without asking, you add two sides of scrambled eggs -one with cheese- and crispy bacon. It's a sort of not-quite instinct to know that Maureen and her new husband will like them. Knowledge imparted by the building without words.

Blackie's chatting away with her, chipper as anything, and you're trying not to feel jealous. It's not like he's interested. She's married.

It's literally his job to steer people down a bad path. Cheating, for example...

Anyway! He wouldn't be interested in her. Even if she's built like the perfect cross between an Amazon warrior and a runway model. He just...wouldn't. Right? Right.

It's a relief when Nathan finally returns. To an outsider's eye, he's hesitant but willing to approach. To you, it's obvious he didn't agree to come back and The Cafe practically has him by the ear. Marching him over like a determined mother.

...Actually, that's an apt comparison. Scolding, worrying, matchmaking...it's all very maternal. Doesn't seem right, suddenly, to be calling the old girl 'it.'

As Nathan is drawn nearer to the booth, Blackie vacates the seat for him. You know. You just know as soon as those two resolve whatever they need to resolve, he'll disappear. Jealousy and hurt feelings have the words out before you can stop them. Whispered sadly to the pancakes.

"I wish Blackie would stop ignoring me."

Seven little words. A small tactical error. And...well, now you're in a Monkey's Paw of a situation.

Blackie can't avoid you here, in this ridiculously small room lit only by a single overhead bulb. Just enough light to see the way he's trying to stay pressed to the wall behind him and away from you. A thing which is next to impossible because you still have to breathe and every inhale is pushing certain parts inconveniently forward.

You try taking a step back, as well, only to run into a wall of your own. You can't hold your breath, either. Pausing for too long after an exhale just makes the next inhale even deeper. He tries putting his hands up as a barrier between your bodies, which proves to be a mistake. You breathe in sharply at the accidental grazing and he quickly folds his arms.

"Really," he snaps, looking up at the ceiling. "You're doing this now?"

You've never heard Blackie take that tone with The Cafe. Genuine anger. He listens to something you can't hear, clearly not happy with whatever it is.

"No, you're the one being stub-" He pauses, huffing indignantly. "No! Can't you take a hint?!" Another long pause, then he looks down at you accusingly. "Apparently, neither can you."

You know you're caught. But it's not like you meant to wind up here. Not exactly. Just...maybe he could look at you or say hi or something. That's all you'd wanted. 

"Sorry."

You mirror his posture, self-defensively apologetic, trying to block his elbows from touching things. The best and only way to get some distance.

For a roundabout definition, anyway. Emotional rather than physical, with your arms bumping in spite of the closed-off body language. He keeps tucking his shoulders in a weird, uncomfortable way. Trying to draw his arms closer to his body and away from yours. 

"You just had to make a wish, didn't you," he sneers.

"Again, I'm sorry. I just...I missed you, okay?"

Blackie raises a hand, rubbing at his forehead. He looks pained. Like you've just confessed to shooting his dog for fun.

"Terrific." There's as much defeat as anger in it. His jaw ticks as he looks up again. "See what you've done?...It's a ba- No, listen, it's a ba- Butt out, already!"

From your perspective, that was only a sputtering monologue. But he keeps doing it. You're undeniably curious.

"...Does The Cafe actually speak to you? In words?"

"Obviously." He waves away the question before returning fully to the defensive posture. "Don't change the subject."

"I wasn't trying-" It's your turn to look upward, blowing a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Alright. Look, I don't know what else I can say, here. I didn't mean for this to happen."

"You realize we're stuck until this place gives up?"

It goes without saying that Nathan wouldn't open the door if he could. Not only would he laugh about this if he knew, but you can hear his voice raised in anger. Right alongside Maureen's. Apparently she'd finally disappeared without warning, not giving him another chance to woo her with more empty promises. Good strategy with that type, really. Can't say you blame her.

Oh! She was pregnant at the time. Ouch. You almost feel bad for ol' Nate. 

There's an idle thought given to the food you'd left cooking, but you don't believe The Cafe would burn it.

You also don't believe you're stuck. It doesn't take a genius to work out what she might want from this. Two people alone in a tiny closet. You're reminded of that old party game. The incredibly invasive one where couples are locked in for a grand total of-

"We might not...have to be," you venture awkwardly, giving Blackie a vaguely hopeful look. "...I'll bet I could get us out in, say...seven minutes."

From the slight widening of his eyes, he's definitely following your train of thought. He immediately turns you down, shaking his head for emphasis.

"Absolutely not. We're not doing that."

"Good odds," you argue, hurt that he's choosing now to refuse a bet. After trying all this time to lure you into one. "You know what she's like."

"She?"

You've never seen him confused. Eyebrows drawing together as he skeptically repeats the word. He winces suddenly, rolling his eyes and rubbing the side of his arm.

"Fine. She. And we're still not doing that."

"Do you have any suggestions?"

The hurt bleeds through in your tone, making you feel even more awkward. Now he'll know you wanted to kiss him. Like you hadn't already made that embarrassingly obvious.

"Yes. I'm pretending you're not here until the door opens."

"You know, I'm getting really sick of that!"

He starts to retort, then simply closes his mouth and heaves a sigh. Turning his gaze back to the ceiling. The silence stretches on uncomfortably.

You're not making it any less so by studying his profile. You can help it. He's right there, closer than he's been in weeks, and the beard really suits him. He's almost too handsome. Devilishly, one might say.

"Stop." 

Caught, you turn your own eyes to the ceiling. Trying a different bid for freedom:

"I wish we were out of here."

Back with Nathan and Maureen, who've progressed to name-calling. They could use a referee.

Blackie snorts derisively.

"You thought that would work?"

"No." Another long stretch of silence. "Maybe if we...talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about."

"Apart from the massive elephant in the room," you scoff.

It's crowding you in, taking what little bit of space the two of you managed to carve out in here.

"I don't comment on your weight."

”Can you please take this seriously?”

You sigh and shift, not amused by the deflection. Bumping his knee with yours. He immediately retreats half an inch to the wall.

“Rather not."

You're going to have your say whether he likes it or not, and determinedly plow on.

"I just...thought we had something. On both sides."

"Took you longer than most," he says flatly. "I'll give you that."

"What?"

"We don't have 'something,'" he draws quotes around the word, once more sneering at you. "Not on my side, anyway. But you-" He shakes his head, all condescending pity. "What can I say? I was designed to be irresistible."

He shrugs lazily; arms still folded to keep you at bay. The way he looks you up and down, after, with blatant contempt, tells you his next words before he says them out loud. The lack of surprise doesn't take away from the sting.

"Unlike you."

Blinking, you will yourself not to cry in front of him. Damn him for being right. Because of course he is. His looks, the easy way he charms people when he's not being a complete ass...he's literally temptation personified.

You're just you. A last chance nobody who's taken to borrowing a few of his tricks. You’re not special, that glint in his eye is for everyone. There's no way you could ever be any sort of temptation to him...

Or can you?

That was deliberately cruel. Something you know he's capable of, but never had directed your way. His blunt remarks always had a softened, playful edge. 

"I never took you for a liar," you say, testing the waters.

Watching his reaction.

There's a warning look in his eyes. It goes unheeded.

Because there's something else that needs testing. Never, not once in all these years, has Blackie ever touched you. Even in the most dangerous ocean, if you should happen to wobble his hand presses the air and you're stable again.

He always acts somewhere between amused and inconvenienced when you grab at his arm. Laughing at the silly little human who can't resist touching him in whatever capacity.

He's trying to avoid touching you, now, despite the limited space. Hadn't cracked a single joke about accidentally feeling you up when you were first dropped in, either.

He ran away after you kissed him, even though you'd caught him Looking several times since that night at the movies.

Either you're completely hideous or it's not just the flimsy moral highground that puts thumbtacks in your chair. He's not allowing himself to do anything that requires touching you back.

Avoiding temptation.

"Or a coward," you continue recklessly.

Deliberately swaying forward into his bubble, you run a hand down his arm. If he were to uncross them, there'd be another accidental groping.

"Don't."

The gritted teeth warning also goes unheeded. He twitches his arm sharply, throwing you off as much as the closet allows. But you've made your point.

This time, when you fold your arms it's a smug gesture. Smirking at him as you lean more casually against the wall.

"Let me out right now," he says, eyes fixed warily on you but his words addressed to the ceiling, "Or find yourself a new partner."

He can do that? Just leave forever?

Apparently, he can and it’s an effective threat because you suddenly find yourself back in the kitchen next to four perfectly cooked pancakes; along with a pan of fluffy eggs and crispy bacon.

Blackie's nowhere in sight. Or the building. Sighing to yourself, you grab a couple of styrofoam containers and pack up the food to go. Sprinkling cheese onto one serving of the eggs. 

It's quiet in the dining room. Nathan's gone, too. Maureen sits drumming her fingers impatiently on the table, staring out the window.

You pop the containers into a bag, hurrying out to her.

"Here you go," you say with forced cheer. "Sorry about the delay and the...everything. Slow stove."

If that registers as nonsense, she doesn't show it. Just takes the bag, asks how much and hands over the requested amount. No tip, but that's fair.

You place the money in the register as she leaves, caught in a confusing whirlwind of triumph and frustration. Blackie's definitely interested. 

He's just not going to do a damn thing about it.

Nathan finally shows up late in the evening, well after dark -after you've been fielding a small rush alone all day- slinking out of the men's room with reddened eyes. Blackie's still gone, but you find yourself capable of cruelty in his place. Digging your spoon into the sundae you'd made yourself for dinner, a little treat after a hard day, you grin sharply at Nathan. 

"Where's the wife got to," you ask, as if you weren't fully aware she'd left hours ago. 

No answer, just a stiffening of his shoulders as he darts past into the kitchen. 

"We're gonna be here a few days, I think," you go on with false cheer. "Maybe she'll bring the kid by and you'll find out whether the new hubby has a stepson or daughter." 

There's a spectacular crash as several pots and pans hit the floor. Followed by another. And another. The Cafe radiates disapproval, but it's directed at you. Making you feel a pang of remorse. When things fall silent, you hurry into the kitchen. Nathan stands among the wreckage, gripping the edge of the island. Head bowed and shoulders visibly trembling. 

"Hey, I'm sor-" 

"No, you're not," he interrupts bitterly, voice thick.

"You're right, I'm not," you admit, keeping your tone casual. Daring to lay a hand on his shoulder. "I've been having a terrible time, lately, and that's partly your fault. You've earned this." 

He snorts, a weird sound somewhere between a laugh and an extremely phlegmy sob. 

"Maureen said the same thing." 

"Actually, she said you were a lousy, unreliable son of a bitch." 

Another almost laugh. He doesn't move your hand. 

"She wasn't wrong." His tone sobers as he continues, "If she'd just told me-" 

"Everything would have stayed exactly the same." 

This time he does knock your hand away, giving you an offended look. 

"Get over it and help me clean this up," you tell him sternly. You can't resist lecturing as the two of you work. "You didn't change when she left. Or when you lost all your money. Or when Blackie gave it all back. You quite literally gambled your way onto the streets and never once tried to improve. That poor woman was better off as a single mother. At least she knew all the money was going to feed her child." 

Nathan keeps slamming the pots and pans around while cleaning, letting you know he doesn't appreciate anything you're saying. 

"So I'm irredeemable and damned, is that it," he snaps. 

"As long as you keep wallowing in self-pity, yes." 

You suspect that he will get to meet his unknown child. To face up to his regrets. 

It reminds you of a few regrets of your own. Like never having a chance to find out if you’d wanted children or not. Your only goal in life had been to follow Tommy, the two of you plotting your castle in the air with the idea that someday you’d think about the possibility. Maybe. Then you went into survival mode as he took one bad deal after another and there wasn’t time to worry about pregnancy. 

You’d defined so much of yourself around him. Maureen was like a glimpse into a world where you saved yourself years of misery.

Nathan’s the bitter man Tommy could have easily become if it weren’t for you and his dogged optimism. The knowledge softens you enough to offer an olive branch.

”But you’ve still got a shot,” you say, smiling thinly as you echo Blackie’s remark from a lifetime ago. “As long as you’re here, anyway.”

You’re alone in your amusement, with Nathan lacking the proper context to recognize what would have been an inside joke. 

“Maybe I don’t want it,” he grumbles, slamming one last pan back into place. 

“So, hypothetically, if things were setting up for you to know more about the kid…?” 

Because he clearly needs that before he can move on.

”About all I’ve missed and can’t have? No, thank you.” 

The Cafe shares your disappointment as you leave the kitchen, drawn out by the swing of the front door and yet another customer.

No one important enough to make Blackie return. The building remains painfully empty and the air completely wrong. 

Happy Valentine's Day to you. 

Oh my goodness M.I, I'm sorry, but your sister is a gremlin. I'm going back in time to get you as many buckets and mints as you need.

Okay now I'll read the fic. Little worried about that that apology, but-

'What can I say? I'm designed to be irresistible' 'Unlike you'- M.I, LET ME TRANSFER INTO THIS FIC SO THAT I CAN S M A C K THIS MAN ON BEHALF OF READER.

Reader, we aren't talking to him anymore. Come on. You deserve so much better. We have to leave the sad immortal alone to do his sad immortal things << <<

But really, seriously, M.I, ohhhhhhhhh my god. This one was a heart wrencher!! Your writing, man, I- you're the master XD Thank you so much for this addition!! I hope you're getting a little more free time now and getting to relax ^^

[writeblrfantasy]

EXCERPT FROM DAYBREAKERS: katirina volonov

Meredith bows her head, arms clasped behind her back. “Ladies, may I present Lady Katirina Volonov, royal cursebreaker and personal agent to the king.”

“Holy shit, you insane son of a bitch. You actually managed to do it.” Evelin manages a laugh. “I have to congratulate you, Mer. I did not think even you could pull that off.”

Meredith crosses her arms, tosses her hair. “I know. You said so. Numerous times.”

Evelin sighs. “Nice moment over. so, she’s with us.”

“She can speak for herself,” Katirina says, confirming Evelin’s assessment that she doesn’t like to hide behind anyone else. “I, on highly specific conditions, have agreed to work with your crew for the duration of your mission, and agreed to look the other way when I report back to His Majesty of any illegalities I may have observed in your company. And for a high price.”

“What did you promise her?” Ruth is the first to ask, beating Evelin to it. Meredith is more shrewd than she seems to some, smarter and wiser than they give her credit for as just their handler.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with right now,” Meredith replies breezily, conveying silently that none of them except perhaps Nell will get an answer out of her on that front, and they shouldn’t try. Evelin knows not to waste her breath.

“Ruth,” comes Bath’s voice, “I do not trust her.”

“Neither do I,” Ruth utters back, not making the effort to lower her voice.

Katirina raises blue painted nails to point at Bath’s form, hovering above Ruth like a silent companion. “Is—is that a demon? Bonded to you? Do you have a permit for possession and subservience of that creature? Where are its chains?”

“That thing happens to be my boyfriend, and he is a free agent, no chains necessary,” Ruth growls, hands clenching into fists. Bath does not glow with anger as he does whenever someone is foolish enough to insult Ruth, although he almost never needs to actually step in on her behalf. Either Ruth handles them herself, or his presence scares silly any would be attackers who don’t know to keep their mouths shut.

The only time Evelin’s ever seen him fight for Ruth alone was when Ruth lay bleeding on the ground, drifting between consciousness and something darker. Where Ruth goes, Bath likes to follow, and they’ve always handily dodged the question Neither of them want to find out.

“You signed on,” Meredith reminds her, casting her a raised eyebrow. “Magical contract and all.”

“Contract?” Evelin snaps. “I don’t like legalities.”

“Then you made a mistake bringing a royal cursebreaker on,” Katirina says.

“Legalities that leave a paper trail,” Evelin clarifies. “I’ll have you know I run a perfectly legitimate tailoring and designing shop on the shore back south, and you’ll never find a file off or a mistake in my taxes in your endless royal file archives. It’s things like this, things that require discretion, where I like to keep stamps and notaries and signatures out of it.”

“She wouldn’t sign on without the reassurance that her ass was safe in our company, and after as well,” Meredith says with a shrug.

Nell laughs, reminding them of her presence and speaking for the first time since Katirina walked in. “You’re a fool if you think a piece of paper will keep my wife from taking whatever revenge she might need to take on you.”

Katirina swallows, visibly unsettled for the first time. Evelin eases up a little at that, the sight that this stiff crown rat can be unshaken indeed. Yes, everyone has a weakness, but to see one instead of having to go hunting for it is always nice. Evelin doesn’t dare hope something on this damned mission will be easy, but perhaps the cursebreaker will be the least of their worries.

That thought isn’t as comforting as she first thought.

Ruth rolls her eyes. “Well, I’ll leave the stuffy upper crust assholes to each other. I have better things to do.” Bath melting back into her, she beckons Nell and Meredith out, Summer sleeping gods know where, peaceful. Evelin envies her for the moment.

Best get this trust bonding exercise over with sooner than later. Evelin stifles a sigh and pats the seat right next to her, deliberately sprawling out comfortably if only to see the discomfort on Katirina’s face. Evelin remembers all those dinners as a kid, the stiffness in her back and the certainty that her shoulders would never be anything but square again. Now, it makes her torso ache just to see such posture. “Park it here. Let’s talk.”

daybreakers taglist: @magic-is-something-we-create @chayscribbles @antique-symbolism @mallthologist @ihernglass @memento-morri-writes @indigocastor

[wambsgansshoelaces]

HEY GIRL OMG I HAVENT CHECKED ON YOUR BLOG IN LIKE SOOO LONG I MISSED YOU

this is all so irrelevant but I finished school like a week ago so I'm like free forever (I'm doing externals next year so like this is my last period of freedom before becoming an academic slave to the education system)

Also hallway crush update. So like 2 weeks ago on a random Saturday I wake up and I get a notification on Instagram and its a message from him and so obviously I'm like dying and dead and decomposing and so I wait 17 minutes and I finally open it and it's this dumb fucking reel of this girl with a dog and he was like "look, it's you" (he uses punctuation over text which okayyy come here you cuteass nerd) now obviously I have no idea what the fuck that means, is he saying I look like a dog??? (Keep in mind this is the first time we've ever texted so huhhh) and so I'm like "bro what 💀" and he says that he meant the GIRL and not the dog. Which okay, yeah, that makes sense. But then again we literally do NOT talk. Like EVER. The most contact we've had before then was all the post-exam debriefs where my friends and his friends are talking about wether the answer to question 18 is 3.5 or 3.6 (we go to a "gifted" school so really we're all just a bunch of nerds) ANYWAYS NOT THE POINT. the point is that this was all so fucking random. Also the girl does NOT look like me. I asked some of my friends and even my mom and they all said that she does though so 💀 anyways I tell him that I don't really see it and he goes "look in the mirror. She could be your sister" and so at this point I am dumbfounded by this man's nonexistent texting skills and im like "well maybe she is ill have to check" and bro LEAVES ME ON READ 💀💀 which totally sucks but like it's fine I guess. Now I do have an issue here and that is that there's this girl in his class and I do think that he may be into her. My friends from his class say that they talk all the time and I see how he is around her, then again she DOES have a boyfriend (and a reputation of stringing every single breathing male along) but I'm worried that he likes her 😔😔 ANYWAYS I do hope that we're in the same class next year 💀💀

Fuck I've been rambling for so long I'm sorry this is literally a fucking newspaper 💀💀

AAANNYYYWAYS HAVE A GREAT NIGHT/DAY QUEEN AND EID MUBARAK BYEEEE

AAAAA I MISSED YOU OMGGGG

don’t even worry I love reading these leave whatever you want in my ask box I love it 🫶🏽

I read all of it and girl idk I’m just gonna say he likes u because we manifest here >:( I have no idea how relationships or anything work LMFAO but I do think ur both cutie patootie together bc like he’s trying even though he’s not chronically online and that the universe will make things right and u’ll get together and fireworks and everything JDJANFNFN but seriously I believe in u I hope ur summer is sosososo good and that u guys hang out or something !!!! go get ur mans bae ily stay safe smooch

[ventingbaybe]

1/16/24

I did end up moving out after that last post, two or so years ago.

Im on my second year break from school, the whole point of the gap year was to save money for school. I got kicked out though, so there went that.

My parents dont like when i word it that i got kicked out, I was “heavily implied that I should move out so that I can thrive away from my family because they didnt sign up to start taking care of me again because I couldnt go back to school” but not kicked out.

I got a second job, worked 80 hour weeks for a while, quit one, work the other. Moved from one apartment to another and then another. I dont have any roommates, just me. I cant get an animal because it would be irresponsible when im planning on going back to school and wouldnt be able to bring them with me.

Every month I pay $1000 in rent, $500 in my loan repayment, and whatever other shit i get roped into.

I have a boyfriend. I had a crush on him at the beginning of last summer, we met at work. I ended up getting over him at one point. But sometime in October I got drunk and flirted with him, we went on a couple dates and made it official. Its awkward. We dont have anything to talk about and dont have anything in common. I feel bad that I cant be the partner that he deserves, but we just arent fit for one another. We need to break up but we havent had any free time to see eachother and actually have a talk about anything. Hes a great guy, but romantically we just arent compatible at all.

Were having a winter storm in my state and just my washing machine pipe froze, so last night at 2am I got to spend hours cleaning up my overflowed washing machine and hand wringing out and emptying the machine. I feel constantly overwhelmed and like Im drowning, but I dont have a solid enough support system to feel helped. This isnt to diss my friends or anything, I just need professional help at this point and cant keep burdening my friends with this kind of constant badgering of venting.

I need to make some more friends, like actual friends I hang out with who are on a similar level of being grown up as me. I need other people who are moved out that I can find some relation and comfort in. I just dont feel like I have anyone solid in my corner that I can turn to at this moment. Its my own fault which is even more frustrating.

I wish i could just go home and curl up on the couch and be comforted. Im a grown person whose fully moved out, supported completely by myself, but I just want my mom. I wish her and I were close. But neither of us are willing to let down our egos enough to ever talk without fighting. One time my mom told me she likes me better when Im drunk, because Im quiet and sweet. So everytime i go over, I have a drink and pretend it affects me more than it does.

I was a functioning alcoholic for most of my senior year of highschool. I’d drink nearly half a bottle of vodka every night. It hurts to see people compliment how I act when im drunk more than when Im sober. I wish I was a likable person. I dont know why I lash out, why I cant not have the last word, but I also wish i didnt have to fight everyone at any given moment.

I dont know why i fight but I dont know why everyone around me loves to rile me up.

My family has always known I had anger issues, and nothing made them laugh harder than seeing me lose my temper, if i got mad i was laughed at. If i got sad I was laughed at. If i stayed sat at that dining room table and went quiet then i was laughed at. If i excused myself to go to my room or hide in the bathroom, I was laughed at. There was no way to get away from the ridicule besides being an asshole back, and then someone else was always allowed to storm off. No one else was laughed at when they left. The table would go silent until everyone else excused themselves and it was just me.

Theres nothing quite like being left alone while everyone else comforts eachother. Why wasnt I included. Was it my own fault? Was I that repulsive of a kid? A teen? What about me was so fundamentally wrong that I couldnt be included.

I remember being young, maybe 9 at this memory. My brother had said something, I said something back, he stormed off and told my mom. I remember feeling excited when my mom came to my door. I remember thinking maybe it was my turn to be comforted. To be held and rocked the way she would to my brothers. I remember standing there while she screamed at me, hearing my brothers doors squeak open so they could tune in to the show. Being ridiculed for being such a horrible daughter, a horrible sister, just a base level horrible person to be around. How much my brothers would complain to my parents about how much they hated me.

Watching my mother stand there with this blank face as I would stand there, tears welled up in my eyes being told that if it wasnt for being family, I would be unloved.

She would hug me after, let my tears soak into the shoulder of her shirt, and say nothing as Id choke out apologies for being how I was. She’d stand there and hold me, telling me that all I could do was change.

So I tried. I tried so hard. I distanced myself from my family so they wouldnt have to deal with me. I got criticized for hiding away and hating them.

Now that I dont live there its easier. I dont see any of them often and they seem happy. My older brother is also moved out but he was still over there constantly, having dinner with the family most nights. I would tell my mom I would swing by later and come over to an empty house. Id wait for an hour, thinking maybe they were all just out, but they wouldnt be back. Id put away whatever Id brought over and leave, a silent drive back home to throw myself into an empty apartment and sit there. Not even a text to acknowledge whatever Id brought. Who knows if they even noticed.

I know my parents care about me, at least on some level. My dad comes over to help me set up my wifi, he drove me to work during this snow storm. I can see that on a base level he cares. But I hate that ill never know how much. Some people you can just sense it when you meet their parents, how they interact, how their parents look at them so fondly.

I feel embarrassed when my friends meet my family, not because Im embarrassed of my family, but because I know that the way I talk about my family isnt reciprocated. That no matter how many stories of my family I can share to my friends, how fondly I talk about them and their achievements, how every eyelash I wish on is spent wishing for my family to receive only the best, I know that when my friends look at my family and I, they dont see that fond look that their parents give them.

No matter how funny I can be around my friends, it will never translate over with my family. How I get quiet and move to the background around family.

I wish I was something and someone that could be talked about.

I wish I was worth bringing up in conversation when Im not around.

I wish just once in my life I felt like I was worth putting up with.

[resident-gay-bitch]

okay so @scoops-aboy86 advised me to elaborate on the fic, and maybe some people will get excited for it and it might motivate me some more :)

So obviously is a Christmas fic, and it primarily follows the persepective of Eddie but it might switch up a bit depending on specific scenes, it's also a modern au. let me break down the basic tropes and info :)

First off, it's a christmas vacation trip!

Eddie is best friends with Chrissy Cunningham

Chrissy is in a very serious relationship with Robin Buckley.

Robin and Steve are best friends but have also coincidently became cousins when her aunt and his brother got married a few years back, and their families now holiday together.

It's the Harrington Christmas vacation they're attending, and Eddie and Steve had no idea the other was going to be in attendance, Robin and Chrissy deliberatly did not tell them because they didn't really like eachother much in highschool (they didn't even know eachother, just dumb teenager prejudice)

They have to share a room... and a bed!

Also its trans Eddie!

They're on a holiday in Australia too, so it's a summer christmas which is really fun for me to write as an aussie

Eddie is a semi famous rockstar now as Corroded Coffin have gained some popularity, and Eddie's got a deadline to finish the last song of the album by New Years and is struggling.

The older women keep hitting on him, cause he looks like all their old boyfriends from the 80's. it makes him uncomfortable but he doesn't want to seem rude and tell them to stop.

Steves family keep berrating him about not having a wife yet (he's in his early 20's) and his nona wont leave him alone about giving her a great grandchild before she dies.

They decide to start fake dating to get everyone off their back, and also Steves been meaning to come out as bi to his family so this is a great excuse.

Obviously they spend christmas flirting and acting like boyfriends in front of everyone, and then pretending to dislike eachother again in private, and surpress the obvious feelings they're getting for eachother.

Eddie and Steve both confide in their respective best friends, who they don't know have been meddling this whole time to get them together.

Eddie writes his final song about Steve <3

Also Chrissy is trans too!

I'm also trying to write it with the vibe of like an early 2000's/2010 coming of age rom-com movie, summer vibes, shenanigans, comedic reliefs and a whole bunch of miscommunication and meddling. But it's also got some serious stuff, like Eddie trying to navigate his new sort of fame and realising that it's actually harrasment when women try to touch him unpromted, and Steve coming out to his family and recieving some homophobia/biphobia, realising they're falling in love and being scared because both of their previous relationships ended badly, and both of their relationships with sex being in the negative.

If you have any ideas, suggestions, whatever, please feel free to mention, and also if you're Aussie and have any good ideas about what type of things they could do or encounter whilst there please suggest them; I'm thinking of having them find out about the Nutbush, and also try to navigate a conversation with a group of high, drunk, 18 year old boys who are also staying in the resort to celebrate their graduation.

Also these are some notes I left for myself last year in my planning lol:

This is also the playlist I made for it:

Guys please motivate me to work on my Christmas Steddie fic that I started and then abandoned last year. It’s so good it’s such a good fic and I constantly day dream about the plot but the writing juice is just not flowing through me PLEASE I NEED MOTIVATIONNNNNNNN

Also feel free to send me asks about it, or just like Steddie or ST or whatever in general, might get my brain working again :)

[d43vilish]

having a narcissistic mother is so fucking draining; especially because im not her biological child, i came from my fathers first marriage.

my mother claims i taught my younger brother (who's 5) to lie, meanwhile i have never told my brother to lie in front of our parents; she tells me i do not spend any time whatsoever with my brother and that i never contribute to his knowledge (for example, by her logic, i am "extremely busy this summer" because i have to babysit my brother, "as the older sister you have responsibilities and just as i taught you how to write and read when you were younger and i worked my ass of for you- and i still do; you must spend all of your free time with your brother" -- her words exactly) when i was the one that taught him to walk, taught him his first words and im still the only one that bothers to teach him to write and do basic calculus, because i spend time with him everyday, when mom and dad are gone (which is usually half of the day). anything and everything she buys is for my brother only (including food most of the time) and if anyone else in the house apart from her or my brother dares to touch whatever shes bought "for him" gets yelled at for at least 3 hours straight. but when i get something for myself and i actually want to keep it to myself, my mother calls me "selfish" and tells me "i do not care about anyone else whatsoever, meaning i have no respect for her". i also have chores to do in the house, and im not complaining about it, i consider being a 16 year old comes with responsibilities, what makes me fucking furious is that she treats these responsibilities like this household is some sort of palace of hers and everyone is her slave because theyre "dumber" (they think different and have feelings, opinions). im supposed to do what she has to do as a mother and when i fulfill all of her dumb stupid tasks its still me the one that gets belittled and scolded and treated like shit. apparently i have to earn talking to my friends (shes considering taking my phone away for the entire summer, my pc as well; because "you dont have time for fun this summer"); i have to earn eating what i want (i have a strict list of things i have to eat everyday- and side note, she cooks my brother something every morning that she spends home and she never bothers to make a plate for me as well, its only her and her beloved fucking toddler); and i also have to earn time for myself apparently ? like just sitting in my room and having some peace because i should instead be babysitting my brother (my mother isnt always a mother, only when she feels like it). i depend entirely on how she feels in a day, if she is upset i have to be upset to or else im mocking her, if she is sad i have to be sad as well because otherwise "im having fun when i shouldn't" and if shes happy i cant have a bad day or feel remotely close to down because that means im disrespectful of her and "everything shes done for me".

if anything happens in the house, its my fault- HER plants arent watered? my fault. her bedroom is full of dust? my fault for not cleaning it up. the bathroom is SLIGHTLY dirty? obviously im a lazy piece of shit and i sit around doing nothing all day.

no birthday or celebration day passes without me getting slapped, yelled at or made fun of by her. its like a routine at this point. im so sick and fucking tired of being despised by "my mother" because of showing human emotion and needs after 12 YEARS of emotional and verbal abuse. i cant wait to turn 18 and leave this fucking house, help my dad divorce her and live happily either with me or on his own, and move in with my boyfriend. i cant wait to turn 18 and never see her ever again. i hope one day karma gets back at her and i hope ill be there laughing in her face.

[cognacdelights]

the law of the forbidden fruit

my the summer i turned pretty masterlist

add yourself to my taglist

summary: she wanted him, but she knew that she couldn’t have him. yet, the temptation was torture. and, eventually, everyone breaks under pressure. 

warnings: swearing. underage drinking. cheating. sexual content. unprotected sex. rough sex (kind of). exhibitionism. biting kink.

author’s note: all characters are 18+. always appreciative of feedback! feel free to leave a little comment, a reblog, or drop a little ask in my inbox!

Temptation is an unrelenting sin. One bite and you’re infected: no remedy, no antidote, no cure. It works its way into the very core of your soul; into the very depths of the corners and crevices of your being and it gnaws at you. It devours you. It wears you down nibble by nibble, then bite by bite, until there’s nothing but a hair-like shred of your sanity left. It consumes you. It becomes you. You’re merely but a shell of fervent yearning; yet another unsuspecting victim of arguably the most deadliest of the seven sins. It was a double-edged sword; the more illicit it was, the more you hankered for it — and the more you hankered for it, the more illicit it became.

It’s intense, but it’s supposed to be. Because what’s more exhilarating than indulging yourself in something that you’re not allowed to have; something illicit; something forbidden? What bigger rush of adrenaline could you get than the thrill of being caught; completely out in the open, exposed for the world to see you in your most carnal of states? What bigger invigorating high could you possibly get than the very moment that you cave into all of your worldly desires; that very moment in which the line was crossed, and the point of no return was reached? What sweeter taste could there be than the bite of the apple that hung from the tree in your own sanctuary of haven; or the kiss of your boyfriend’s brother who had been giving you the same longing, brooding looks that burned a desirous hole through your chest and ignited an insatiable fire?

The law of the forbidden fruit; it was a tale as old as time, quite literally. The serpent enticed Eve to take a bite from the forbidden fruit of the tree of knowledge. Whilst the stories may have evolved over the years, the anecdote remained the same; you want what you can’t have. Why? Why did we always, without fail, want what we can’t have with a hellfire passion? Because the risk, the thrill, the surge of adrenaline tastes just as sweet as the reward. It’s two hits of euphoria in one, and who doesn’t want to feel like they’re on top of the world — far beyond the metaphorical heaven of cloud nine, and floating amidst the satellites and constellations?

Conrad was her apple. The six foot, solemn brother of her doting boyfriend with the long, chestnut hair that flopped over his face and the piercing, malachite eyes that held her captive whenever he laid his gaze on her. She could feel the burn of his stare searing through her skin whenever he was in her proximity. She felt his presence right down to her bones. She felt the way in which he would ever so subtly sweep his gaze over her from head to toe, then back up to meet her eyes. It breathed a new kind of life into her; it gave her an insatiable buzz. Perhaps she was addicted to that that very buzz.

Talia knew that it was wrong to lust after her boyfriend’s elder brother. Of course, she did. She was an emotionally intelligent and perceptive person who knew right from wrong, and she knew of the unaired tensions between both Jeremiah and Conrad. She knew that Jeremiah harboured a deep and overwhelming jealousy of his brother — of his unbearable ability to get whatever he so desired. It was an overarching theme of their childhood that just went unspoken. And despite knowing this, despite knowing how this niggle had eaten her boyfriend alive for the better part of his life, and despite how much love she had for Jeremiah, she couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t stop the way in which she felt around him; the way in which her pulse raised and pounded in her ears whenever he was close; or the way in which an inferno set alight in the very pit of her stomach and burned her skin with the heat of the flames; or the way in which her breath evaporated from her lungs.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a sick and twisted part of her that didn’t want to stop herself. If she was really, sincerely honest with herself, she would admit that she loved it. She loved the buzz. She loved the intoxicating breath of life that it breathed into her. And, deep in her subconscious, there was a part of her that loved it more than she loved Jeremiah.

There was a subtle almost breeze lingering in the air as she peered out over the wooden railings of the gazebo, onto the water. It was quite the picturesque sight as the silver streaks of moonlight reflected from the star-sprinkled heavens above onto the placid surface — the distorted, crescent-shaped form breaking occasionally with the spontaneous ripples of the gentle waves — as the lush branches of the surrounding trees framed the edges of her view. It was quiet too. Appreciatively peaceful, and serene; a far cry from the overcrowded beach house, of which the faint echoes of the blaring music filled the background alongside the calm back and forth of the water. It was a much-needed refuge away from the rowdiness of the full house, the thumping baseline, and the oppressive heat.

Sometimes she just needed to step away from everything and take a moment, or several, to herself; sometimes she just needed a second to compose herself — especially when around Conrad. Talia never wanted to arouse suspicion to anyone, let alone Jeremiah, but had been noticeably flustered for the majority of the night. Their eyes had met over the perfectly placed, red solo cups of the beer pong table numerous times, and even just a brief flash of his infamous, brooding stare had sent a shiver down her spine. The very nape of her neck burned a feverish heat and her heart thudded tenfold against her chest — all as she stood just millimetres beside her ever loving, ever adoring boyfriend. Somewhere amongst the flickers of excitement and the longing for more of his attention, she felt a slither of guilt. However, it soon dissipated into the abyss the second she felt his intense eyes on her once more; he looked her up and down — attentively tracing the outline of her silhouette. Then came the rush of ecstasy that sent her into an orbital high.

A wash of relief trickled through her as the cool air grazed against her flushed skin, and she took a deep breath. As she let out a steady exhale, she heard the light pads of footsteps against the wooden jetty that led up to the gazebo. They grew louder — not by much, but she could tell that they were getting closer.

She didn’t even need to tear her sapphire eyes from the scene before her to know who it was. The quick shot of adrenaline that coursed through her body and the invigorating burn of a pair of acute eyes shamelessly raking themselves over her figure told her everything that she needed to know. The rich sandalwood cologne that nonchalantly wafted through the air with the leisurely draught was just a silent confirmation of what she already knew.

Her eyes remained forward, somewhat fixated on the luminous reflections of the moon as it rocked back and forth with the tides. Out of the very corner of her eye, she caught the familiar nautical tattoo and the front strands of the oh so recognisable, floppy, brown hair. She kept her mouth firmly shut and dropped her gaze ever so slightly — this time attentively watching his ring-cladded hands as they settled on the varnished top of the railing. He leant his weight forward on the points of his elbows as one hand gripped tightly onto the neck of a half-empty bottle of Captain Morgan and the other dangled casually in the thin air. His burly biceps tensed, and the bottle of rum momentarily disappeared from her view — replaced with distinctive sounds of sloshes against the glass.

Eventually, she acknowledged his presence. Still without uttering a single word, she turned her heard to look at him and was immediately met with those same, veridian eyes that she had been avoiding. Yet another surge of ecstasy flooded through her; suddenly she felt alive. Talia observed with a cautious gaze as he extended the offer of a drink to her, tipping the lidless bottle towards her as a suggestive arch raised his eyebrows upwards. She knew that it would be a monumentally bad idea to accept the offer, and to put herself in the position to be intoxicated and inhibitionless in the presence of the one person that she struggled to contain herself around. She knew damned well that she shouldn’t take it.

Yet, she did. With a half-smile quirking the corners of her rosy lips upwards, she took the bottle from him and took a long, generous sip. The spiced rum burned as it trickled down her throat and warmed her stomach. It was a shot of confidence; as the alcohol coursed through her veins, she found it within herself to meet his intense gaze.

“Jere’s looking for you,” Conrad spoke, his tone hoarse yet somehow smooth and comforting.

Talia wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to his statement; in all of her temptation-filled thoughts of Conrad and the way in which she revelled at the slightest slither of attention that he showed her, Jeremiah had become less than a second thought. In fact, she hadn’t even had so much as a fleeting thought of his existence, never mind their relationship, since the shudder of guilt that had pressed against her chest during their game of beer pong. That was several longing stares and at least two cups of the strong rum punch ago. Even then — in that very moment, as she heard the gentle pads of the feet making their way along the wooden jetty — her first thoughts went immediately to Conrad; there was not so much as a half an inch of her that was hoping for it to be Jeremiah, not in the way that she did with Conrad.

Instead, she cocked her head to the side. An unreadable glimmer illuminated the pearl-like speckles of her eyes as she remained silent. Not a single word surpassed her full, gloss-glazed lips, yet the look that she gave him spoke a thousand words. She peered upwards through her thick, dark lashes as a subtle, sultry pout tugged on her lips. Their gazes locked in an ardent stare once more. Her cheeks rouged with the heat of the chemistry that erupted between them, and her chest heaved up and down ever so subtly with each breath that she took. She could feel her pulse pounding in her throat.

She refused to let him see how undone she became in his presence, so she forced herself to steel her nerves. She was not putty in this man’s hands — physically or metaphorically. “I like it out here,” she admitted with a sly change of subject, steering the conversation as far from her boyfriend as she possibly could.

A lone, rasping laugh rippled through his chest, “me too. It’s one of my favourite spots.” He paused for a brief second before continuing to speak, his voice silky and suggestive as he lowered an octave, “it’s quiet and out of the way here. You can really be alone. It’s nice.”

“I agree.” Her voice was whist and reticent as the words tumbled from her mouth; a thought having barely been formed before her tongue ran away from her. “It’s a good getaway spot, to just step out of reality and take a moment to gain some clarity,” she agreed.

He nodded his head — the parted strands of his soft, chestnut hair shifting ever so slightly, “just take in the atmosphere and feel things that need to be felt.” Attentively, he raised his hand up to her face and tucked the stray wisps of her cinnamon hair that had fallen into her fair features behind her hear. The very tip of his forefinger traced the curve of her ear, before continuing a leisurely trail along her jawline. His hand then wrapped itself around her neck in an ever so gentle hold before his lips found hers.

It wasn’t quite the hot, sloppy, and lust-filled kiss that Talia had envisioned and replayed a thousand times over in her mind; it was soft, and passionate, and slow. Yet, tidal wave after tidal wave of electricity surged throughout her body. His lips were tame, and his tongue was soft as it worked against her own — their lips moving in a perfect, leisurely synchronisation. The hand wrapped around her throat was dominant and sexual, yet there was an overwhelming gentleness to their embrace.

After a few, pro-longed moments of passion, they separated — chests heaving up and down as they caught their breath. Once again, their gazes were fixed upon one another. They were processing; they were analysing the moment that they had just shared with one another. It was silent for a brief second, nothing but their heavy breaths filling the quiet.

Then, there it came. All of the zealous heat that emanated from the vehement flames that burned in the very pits of their stomachs; all of the pent-up tension between them; all of the sinful temptation that had been building over the course of the last two months. It all unravelled before them. Swiftly, Talia stood on the very tips of her toes and coiled her arms around his neck — her manicured fingers combing roughly through the ends of his long, shaggy hair. Her swollen, gloss-smeared lips smacked against his own in a fury of lust and she was once again sent skyrocketing towards the stars, an intoxicating wave of pleasure drowning her from head to toe.

Conrad was immediate in his reaction. His paw-like palms instinctively found their way to the curvatures of her waistline and pulled her in close. At his request, her body pressed against his own — her taut nipples pressed against the toned muscles of his chest through the thin fabric of both her anchor-printed dress and his plain t-shirt. His hand audaciously descended down her silhouette and rested itself against her ass, giving it a tight and teasing squeeze. A complacent smirk crept across his chiselled features as they continued with their fervent embrace, and she responded with a quick, little nip of his bottom lip with her teeth.

A low, grunt-like groan rumbled through the very depths of the back of his throat as he felt the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He was hot and excited, and that feeling only intensified as her dainty fingers ran through the knotted ends of his hair and yanked with a slight might. Talia was pushing all of the right buttons in a perfectly co-ordinated sequence that only she was privy too, and boy was he enjoying it; he felt energised, and alive, and as though he was on the most powerful trip of his life.

He detached his rum-laced lips from hers and placed lustful, little kisses that trailed from her lips down to the crook of her neck. He ran his hot, wet tongue over her sensitive skin — eliciting a soft moan from the very back of her throat. It spurred him on in his salacious actions as he ran the very tips of his pearly teeth over sweet spot of skin, before giving it a gentle nibble. He kissed, and licked, and sucked to his heart’s content as whining breaths slipped from between her lips — leaving a fresh bruise behind in his wake. Then, he returned his lips to hers, kissing her with a fervid passion.

He took several forceful steps, guiding her backwards until the cool wood of the bench seat pressed against the backs of her knees. His palms pushed against her curvaceous hips, forcing her down onto the seat and their lips to reluctantly separate. She peered up at him through her dark, mascara-coated lashes just as she did before, and watched as he slowly descended to his knees. The warm palms of his hands placed themselves on both of her knees and pried her legs apart with an abrupt motion — sending her sharp breath inwards echoing around the open expanse of the landscape.

Conrad then placed his authoritative fingers beneath her slender thighs and gave her a gentle tug forwards until she was perched on the very edge of the seat. His tongue slid across his bottom lip as the soft pads of his fingers traced a meandering trail up her tanned thighs, and beneath the short, frilled hemline of her dress. They hooked around the string-like waistband of her lace thong and pulled her underwear down. A lopsided smirk curled the corner of his full lips upwards, and lust glazed over his veridian eyes, as she carefully lifted her lips — allowing the thong to fall to her ankles. He slipped the meagre fabric from around her ankles and tucked it into the back pocket of his light wash, ripped jeans.

His clouded eyes peered upwards once more, his gaze fixing on hers as the pad of his finger found the exposed skin of her upper thigh. Taking in the feel of her silk-like skin, he trailed his finger downwards in an ever so leisurely motion, over the bone of her knee and proceeding down her shin. As her reached her now bare foot, he gently hooked it over his broad shoulder — pulling him ever closer to her forbidden fruit. His lips peppered several, lust-filled kisses along the inside of her thigh as he slowly made his way towards her pussy. His pearly teeth nipped and nibbled as the sensitive skin until he found his favoured patch. He, with every ounce of yearning inside of him, sunk his teeth into the inside of her upper thigh and marked her. Then, he continued to suck and lick over the sweet patch to his heart’s content.

Finally having his fill of her sunkissed thighs, he refocused himself on her sweet, sopping cunt. His tongue stroked long, languid lined across her wet folds as breathy moans slipped from between her lips. Her manicured fingers coiled around the very edge of the wooden bench and held on in a vice-like grip, allowing herself to indulge in the euphoria of his masterful tongue. The very tip of his tongue found her swollen clit and toyed with it wickedly; he blew a gentle huff of air out against her most sensitive of nerves and watched — elation dancing across his sun-drenched complexion — as she writhed before him. He circled it slowly, his tongue dragging a painfully slow trail around her rose bud of nerves before gradually increasing his pace. He had hankered over this moment for the better part of two months, and he was most definitely going to enjoy it whilst it lasted.

His hot palm rested against her inner thigh as his fingers dug into the soft skin and his tongue lapped expert motions against her core. An arrogant smirk curled the very corners of his lips upwards as he felt her voluptuous hips rolling, grinding against his face in a desperate bid for more pleasure. He nibbled lightly, eliciting an exhilarated whine from the petite brunette before him. Boy, did he love the sound of her moans; each salacious tone was another hit of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, and he was soon becoming impatient to feel her electric touch on him.

Talia raised her arms above her head — desperately grabbing onto the wooden back of the bench with her fingers. She held on with a vice-like grip as her hips subconsciously rolled in rhythm with his now fast-paced licks and her back arched at an unholy angle. Short, shallow gasps spewed from out her mouth as his tongue quickened its pace once more and her toes curled tightly. Elated moans filled the otherwise serene waters surrounding them and the metaphorical rope began to tangle within the very pit of her stomach; the frayed rope looped and knotted around itself, pulling ever tighter with each new weave until eventually — with one final tug — it pulled itself loose. An emphatic, high-pitched whine echoed through the dark abyss of the night as she came undone at the mercy of his masterful tongue.

Eventually, her loud moans dissipated into heavy breaths as he lapped up every drop of her sweet nectar. She straightened her posture, shuffling herself back against the wooden back of the bench _ her legs remaining, pinned open by Conrad’s presence. With her hazy, indigo eyes trained on the taller brunette, she watched as he stood up. Her French-tipped fingers almost instantly found their way to the belt loops of his skinny-fit, light wash jeans and pulled him closer with a hungry tug. His eyes darkened to a deep, forest green and glazed over with a fire-like yearn; Talia most definitely excited him in ways that no girl had excited him before.

She effortlessly unbuttoned his jeans and tugged on the zip until they rigid fabric was played open before her. The dainty palm of her hand cupped his semi-erect dick through the thin fabric of his Calvin Klein boxers and gave him a teasing rub. A devilish smile contorted her complexion at the rugged sound of his low grunts. She took her time in slipping her hand beneath the fabric but continued to give his now fully erect dick slow and taunting rubs.

Pulling his hard length from the constraints of his boxers, she lowered her head and licked the tip of his cock with a lascivious stroke. Her tongue swirled salaciously around his tip before she took the head into her mouth. Deep, carnal grunts spilled from between Conrad’s full lips as he placed a both his hands behind his head and pushed his hips forward. His hunger-filled eyes watched from his towering height as she continued to swirl her tongue around the tip of his dick, and her hands wrapped around the very base. Her palms pumped along the length of his dick as she flicked her tongue over the sensitive tip, teasing him just as he had done to her.

Eventually, she took his length into her mouth. The very tips of her straight, pearly teeth grazed along his shaft as he she ever so slowly retreated. Then, she repeated the process, taking his hardened dick into her mouth once more and retreating back. With each masterful bob of her head, she heard the grunt-like groans of the floppy-haired brunette fill the peaceful quietness of shoreline. She quickened her pace with each encouraging moan until she felt the pressure of his hand against the very back of her head.

Her loose, chestnut curls tangled beneath his clammy palm as he pressed down on the back of her head, pushing her mouth further down his rigid length. God, it felt as though he had ascended into heaven as the very tip of his dick hit against the back of her throat; it was so euphorically tight and pleasureful. His remaining hand steadied himself, supporting his hefty weight, against the white-painted pillar of the gazebo as his other continued to push her sinful lips further down his length. His strong hand relaxed and allowed her to retreat for a brief moment, before pushing her down once more. He repeated his actions once again and set into a hurried rhythm — carnal grunts and vulgar moans pouring from between his lips.

His head leant backwards and his eyes fluttered closed as his breathing became heavy and laboured. His paw-like hand continued to guide her salacious mouth with a steady, fast-paced rhythm until he felt it; his toes were hanging over the metaphorical edge of the cliff, ready to tumble forwards into he unknown. One more strong, rough shove of her head down onto his dick — his length pushing its way down into the tight heaven of her throat and he came undone himself. He came in her mouth, spilling his pearly load down her throat as lustrous moans spilled from his mouth.

Releasing her the back of her head and her chestnut tangles from his vigorous grip, Conrad allowed himself to catch his breath for a brief moment. His muscular chest heaved up and down with each intense breath as the invigorating hormones surged throughout his body. He felt as though he was on fire; he felt electric. That’s what Talia’s touch did to him. No, that’s what Talia in general did to him; he felt more alive than he ever had before. He felt renewed; refreshed; like he was riding the most extravagant high of his life.

His intense gaze returned as he peered back down, and his malachite eyes met with hers. He observed as she ever so nonchalantly ran her finger along the under side of her lip, wiping away the stray droplets of his cum. A husky moan rumbled through his burly chest once more, reminding him of his insatiable lust for the sunkissed, brunette temptress before him. The pad of his forefinger rested below her chin and inched her upwards into a standing position, then up onto her the very tips of her ivory-painted toes.

His rum-laced lips hovered over hers, just a mere millimetre apart, until he took the plump flesh of her bottom lip between his teeth. He tugged roughly, breaking the skin ever so slightly before pressing his lips to hers in a fervent embrace once more. It was a hot, lustful kiss. Her wandering fingers combed haphazardly through his dark locks as he slipped his palms behind her marked thighs. With one swift and effortless motion, her hickey-littered thighs were wrapped around his waist and his tattooed, burly arms were supporting her weight.

Conrad turned the entwined pair of them around and perched himself on the wooden seat of the bench, allowing her exposed knees to fall either side of his body. Their lips remained locked in an impassioned embrace as his dauntless hands explored the lower half of her silhouette; they traced the length of her slender thighs upwards — masterfully slipping beneath the short hemline of her sundress and grasping at her voluptuous ass. He squeezed her ass flirtatiously hard as the trimmed tips of his nails dug into her bronzed skin, leaving red, crescent-shaped marks.

As they continued to kiss with a fervid intenseness, Conrad’s dick hardened once more in sheer anticipation of the main event. It was something that he had fantasised over many a time; his lust-filled mind would wander during the sleepless hours of the early morning, thinking of all the different positions he could contort her slender, curvaceous body and ruin her beautiful cunt. He’d anticipated a hot and ardent quickie — rough and ready, sloppy, and barely unclothed; yet, similarly, he had envisioned a slow and sensual moment with steady, meaningful strokes and long, passion-filled kisses. This moment, however, very much resembled the former scenario and there wasn’t a single syllable of a complaint to be heard. There was something quite carnal and erotic about the heat of the moment and the spontaneity; the exhilarating thrill of the possibility of being caught, yet still being too caught up in the passion and the ecstasy of the moment to care.

He lined the tip of his erect length up with her wet slit and slid himself along her folds. Soft, angelic moans spilled from between her swollen lips as her curvaceous hips rocked ever so lightly back and forth in tandem with his thrusts.

Then, temptation overwhelmed him; he was far to eager to continue down the teasing road that he had headed. With a full, one-eighty turn, he positioned himself at the very opening of her entrance and guided her down length. A loud moan of satisfaction crawled up from the very depths of the back of his throat and dissipated into the cool air as he gave her a moment to adjust inside of her.

Talia — in slow and masterful motions — rocked her hips back and forth. His warm palms resting on the curvature of her waistline guided her, encouraging her to increase her pace with each complete back and forth rhythm. She pressed her rosy lips to his in a heated embrace, her tongue pushing past his lips and finding his own instantly; they moved together as one, caressing one another as an inharmonious melody of emphatic whines and amorous grunts filled the star-dusted sky. Her French-tipped nails dug deep into his brawny shoulder blades as she leveraged herself, lifting herself up before slamming herself back down onto his throbbing erection.

It wasn’t long before she was desperately grasping at the ends of his messy, brown locks — pulling roughly on the ends. Loud groans and pleasure-filled moans erupted from his mouth between the sloppy, wet kisses as she quickened her pace on top of him; he could feel her pussy walls clamping and unclamping around his rigid cock and — in an instinctive response to the ecstasy-like high — he bucked his hips upwards. His name rolled off her tongue so effortlessly in a sultry whine before sinking her teeth into the exposed flesh of his shoulder. She bit down hard, channelling all of her euphoria into that one bite before peppering salacious kisses along his neck and jawline.

Several rampant strokes later and Talia had found herself teetering on the brink once more. Nothing but pure and unadulterated pleasure surged throughout her body — reaching the very tips of her ivory-painted toes and the very top of her head — as she quickened her rhythm once more. Then, in with a shriek-like moan, she came undone once more; her pussy pulsated on beat with her pounding heart as she spilled her honey-like juices all over his thick, hard length. She continued to ride out her orbital climax, until he gave one final, rasping grunt himself and spilled his white ropes of cum inside of her.

The pair of them were left heaving and out of breath as neither dared to move. It took them a drawn-out moment, but eventually they managed to compose themselves. Talia slowly climbed off him, retreating from his lap and standing before him. Her manicured fingers tugged the frilled hemline of her dress back down over her nail-marked ass in a desperate bid to cover the shameful mess that they had created between her legs. Conrad, ever so casually in his lackadaisical manner, tucked his now flaccid dick back into his Calvin Klein boxers and buttoned his jeans. He tugged the metal zip closed and then peered upwards with his hazy eyes.

Talia brushed the delicate pad of her thumb over his reddened lips, wiping away the remnants of her sheer lip gloss, “Jere can never find out about this.”

Conrad stayed silent — offering nothing but another one of his infamous, brooding glances.

Eventually, he nodded his head in agreement and rose to his feet. Nonchalantly, he straightened out his now crumpled, white t-shirt and adjusted his light wash jeans to sit more comfortably on his hips. Then, with those final words uttered by Talia, he made his way back down the wooden jetty — the soft pads of his off-white converse fading into quiet.

[traumatised-confused-individual]

Ok so I have 4 imagine requests for TSITP you don’t have to write all of them but I thought I’d give you a few options.

One is a Conrad imagine they’re at a party at the beach and the reader’s ex sees them dancing together and gets pissed. He starts yelling at the reader abs Conrad gets pissed and tries to fight her ex. The reader stops him and they go back to his house. The other one is a Jeremiah imagine it’s the same as the Conrad one but Jeremiah is the one getting hit on! The third one is for Steven Conklin. I would love for the reader to be Conrad and Jeremiah’s little sister secretly dating Steven and one day her brothers find out and get mad but then learn to accept it once they see how happy she is.The fourth one is for Cam where they’re at a bonfire party and someone hits on the reader and Cam comes to her rescue

I would love for all of them to have a fluffy make out session in it if you don’t mind.

Ooh yes ofcourse. I hope you like this. It's short so i hope it will suffice. I might do another one from this.

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Pairings: Conrad fisher x reader.

No warnings just pure fluff as requested :)

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The summer's are the best because I get to spend them with Conrad fisher. My boyfriend. He's intimidating but he's honestly very sweet and gentle.

"Are you ready?" He jumps on my bed.

"Yes. Almost." I put on my butterfly earrings and then twirl around to show-off my outfit. It wasn't much, a pair of shorts, my black t-shirt that ofcourse says cousins beach.

He smiles, "Pretty as always." He takes my hand in his.

"Thankyou." I smile at him.

We walk to the beach, its not far from Connie's house. The loud music can be heard from a far distance. It's almost funny that we get the cops called upon us everytime someone throws a party. You would think that the parents would get used to this and let us have a little bit of our own fun.

"Hey steven look, the lovebirds finally made it here." Jeremiah fisher, annoying as he is he's also very lovable. Steven and him share a laugh, well they're drunk as one can be. They stumble upon the sand and fall on top of each other. Connie and I share a look and go far away from them. Not that far but yes.

"Dance?" Conrads asks raising a brow, almost as if I'd deny him of the opportunity.

"Yes always." I give him a small smile. We enter the huge pit of people dancing and laughing, not really caring about what's actually happening. Conrad does a silly step which makes me laugh and then we both end up having a silly dance contest. And we keep doing that. It's just us and our silly dance steps.

I feel a firm grip on my arm that pulls me out of the pit and away from Connie.

"Hey!" I struggle to break my arm free. The boy finally lets go.

"What are you doing dancing with him?" Ryan, my ex. I roll my eyes at him. Why can't he just accept the fact that we've broken up and I've moved on.

"Why do you care? What are you doing here anyways?" I look around for Conrad.

"I came looking for you and you're getting all cozy with that idiot." He raises his voice and empahsizes on the idiot.

"He's not an idiot. And you are not my boyfriend anymore so stay away from me." I turn to leave but he grabs my hand tightly.

"Let go Ryan!" I shout.

"Hey! Let go off her." Conrad stands in between us.

"This is between me and y/n. Stay away." Ryan warns.

I break free from his grip and stand behind Conrad, holding his hand.

"Y/n You're coming with me." Ryan steps forward.

"Hey man back off." Conrad puts his hand on Ryan's chest. This could turn into something ugly and I really don't want it to.

"Connie let's just go." I say, trying to stop this. "Leave him. He's not worth it."

Conrad takes my hands and leads me away from the party.

"Yeah whatever man, she's a sl-" before Ryan could finish the sentece he finds himself on the ground. Conrad punched him right across the face.

"That ought to teach you. Stay away from her." He walks over to me, his expressions soften as soon as he sees me. I wish he didn't do that.

"You didn't have to." I say softly.

"I'm not going let anyone talk about you that way. Let's go."

He takes me back to his house, his knuckles are red and could also possibly be bleeding. I wish he didn't punch him. He hurt himself. I don't care about what anyone says to me. He winces in pain as he puts a cold pack of ice on it.

"I'll help with that." I take out the first-aid kit Susannah keeps for emergencies or mostly for her sons who get into tons of fights. I take his hand and wipe his knuckles.

"Just a little bit more." I say bandaging him up "and done."

When i look at him, he's smiling. He has a big smile on his face. It's almost annoying.

"What?" I ask

"Nothing." He chuckles softly "I just really like you."

He holds me by my waist and pulls me closer.

"Well thats a revelation!" I clasp my hands together. He frowns.

"I really like you too Conrad fisher." I kiss him gently on his lips and pull away. He pulls me back, his hands hold my face as he kisses me again. I melt into his arms, kissing him back.

A perfect end to a very chaotic night. The rest is pretty much history.

Check-out my pinned post for masterlist and prompts and fandoms i write for and feel free to make requests <3

[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 

[shadowofahope]

How Far

Warnings: mentions of a cheating spouse

Pairing: JHope!Idolxreader

Premise: No matter how far or how much time has past memories still follow you.

Word count: 975

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Maybe this may have been because of heartbreak, maybe it was about time you discovered yourself again. Whatever it was that lead you to using your couples package refund to book a round-trip flight to Korea, you should be thankful for. 

Should you be thankful for finding out your longterm boyfriend was cheating on you? That because of his sloppiness you found out before your planned trip to Mexico, one you had talked about getting engaged while there. You guess it was better knowing now then later. But it still stung nonetheless. 

The question really was: would you have said yes? Was he someone you’d want to spend the rest of your life with?

Probably not. That’s why it didn’t hurt as much as you knew it should have. 

Boarding the plane, you stow away your carry-on in its designated space, buckling your seat as you made yourself comfortable. Earphones in, music set to a special playlist you had made while sitting at your gate, trying to calm your thunderous heart.

The old crumpled photo your parents took over a decade ago lingering in your sweater pocket. It being one of the reasons you chose your new destination. One summer family trip that never really left you. Someone who never left you.

Remembering the boy who’s smile caught your eye. One you never forgot. Wondering now what he was doing, what he was up to in his life. Was he happily married with kids? Did his dreams to dance come true? The language barrier making it harder to really get to know him, but still that summer you had spent every free moment with each other; whether it be you reading and him play games. You keeping him company as he studied. Watching him dance at a youth centre. Playing games at the local arcade. Only using nicknames with each other as a fun little inside summer joke between you. Life felt so easy with the cute boy leading you around on fun day trips. You had promised to write to each other but life has a way of getting away from you. 

The memories now shrouded in a haze, along with his face now a blur. His smile still as radiant as ever, but his features began to slowly fade over time. The question always remained; why in times like these did his memory always resurface. Was a first love failing by impossibility call for a constant reminder when each relationship crumbled? When each one broken worse by the last, yet not hurting as much as it should. You guessed never getting over your first made it really hard to fully accept the others. No matter how you tried to convince yourself you had forgotten, you never really had. 

The presence of a figure sits beside you. You don’t bother removing your gaze from a cloudy spec on the window. Allowing yourself to be absorbed into a silent calm in your mind as they also got comfortable for the flight. 

Your music is cut by the vibrations of your phone, glancing down to it sitting in your lap. The number memorized even if the contact itself was erased. 

You let yourself answer, hopefully for the last time. Allowing your airpods to connect.

“Hello.” You sigh, chin resting on your hand as you leant towards the window. 

“Y/N! Thank god you answered. Please just hear me out, I’m begging you. I’m sor-.” Your ex boyfriends voice rings in your ears.

“Stop.” You cut him off, hand fumbling to your pocket to pull out the photo. “I’ve heard all the voicemails you left me, I’ve read every text. I know.” 

Your gaze shifts to the boy in the vanishing moment of time. Your fingers run over his figure, giving you a sense of reassurance. 

“I know.” You breathe deeply. 

“Y/n-” 

“It’s not ok what you did, but I’m ok with us ending. I’m ok with you wanting to be with her, I’m ok with walking away from you. I just-” What exactly did you want….you weren’t even sure. “I just wish you had told me before I found out like that.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

“You didn’t mean a lot of things. I was shocked yes, but more hurt you wouldn’t communicate that something was wrong with us. Regardless, I’m ok now.” A soft smile plays on your lips as you study each crease of the photo, the outline of the boy next to you, the ice creams in hand and the smile on your face. “We can say goodbye and we’ll both be alright. Just be happy, ok?” 

A long pause before you hear a light sniffle on the other end. He may cry, but you won’t. Not now, not later. 

“You too, Y/N.” His voice breaks.

“Goodbye.” You hang up the call. 

“This is your fault you know.” You roll your eyes at the boy, giving a chuckle. “If only you hadn’t made me fall in love with you all those years ago, maybe I’d find a decent guy. No one wants to be second in someones heart.” 

The pilots announcements cut through the rest of the passengers, settling everyone down before the plane heads to the runway. 

“As long as I’m still first, Sunshine. Because you’ll always be first for me, no matter how far apart we are.” A voice comes from the person next to you. Stunned you turn to look them for the first time. A radiant smile beams at you, the same smile that lives in your memories. 

“Jay” A gasp escapes you.

“Hoseok.” He corrects, his smile almost becoming too bright to look at. You scan over his face, recognition fully hits you as an older version of the boy in the photo. 

Not only that, but a new wave of recognition hits you causing a joyful laugh to escape you. 

“Y/N.”

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