#who knows come summer break i might fuck around and make an ask series

[swirlthelad]

Meet my sploon agent OCs!! Wowzers! Look at them!

They are cool I think

[moonstruckme]

hi mae !! im currently in love with eddie, so i was wondering if you could write an eddie x fem!reader drabble, where they're in a long distance relationship and are finally getting to see each other in person again after a while of being apart? if isnt something youre interested in, i understand :))

Hi gorgeous, thank you for requesting!!

cw: mention of weed (Eddie deals but they're not smoking)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 708 words

Eddie likes to think of himself as erring on the wild side, but you know he sticks to his routines the same as a crotchety old man. And even though he’s graduated from high school, he still deals to a few of the kids he knew when he was there. You’re lucky; you step into the woods behind the school right as the buyer is leaving, a scraggly kid whose head bobs as he walks and who looks at you like you might go tattle to his parents. You’re too excited to take offense. 

Eddie’s still sitting at his picnic table, one leg hiked up on the bench like he’s thinking of climbing up, closing the clasps of the tin lunchbox he keeps his stash in. He doesn’t startle as you come up behind him, just turns with a half interested look in his eyes. 

A laugh bubbles out of you when they widen comically. 

“Hey,” you say, picking up your pace to cross the distance to him. 

“Holy fuck.” Eddie nearly trips getting out of his seat. He leaves the lunchbox behind. “Jesus, what the fuck?” 

“Glad to see you too,” you laugh, putting your arms around him. 

And you know from experience that Eddie’s a fantastic hugger, but this one is a bit of a scramble. He’s rushed, greedy, hands starting at your sides and then wriggling their way across your back until he’s got you where he wants you. Pulled tight against him with his arms banded across the high and low points of your back, face pressed into your shoulder, your feet still touching the ground but just barely. The whole production makes your chest hurt, a gratifying ache.

“What are you doing here?” It sounds almost like an accusation, muffled affectionately into the material of your shirt. 

You can’t stop giggling. Eddie’s hair tickles your nose. “Crazy thing,” you reply, “they actually let us have summers off.” 

Eddie’s funny in that he almost never asks the right questions. The last time you’d seen him had been during winter break, and when you’d gone back to school and been calling every night, he only asked about your life there. Always what you were doing and how much fun you were having, infinitely sweet in his support of your college experience even if he couldn’t share in it, and in his curiosity he’d somehow forgotten to wonder when you might be coming home again. 

“Okay, smartass.” He gives you a happy little squeeze. “How long do I get you for?” 

“Until August.” 

Eddie makes a delighted moaning sound that sets your giggles off all over again. 

“Yes.” His tone evokes the feeling of a fist-pump without the follow-through of the actual motion, but his hands slip from around you. He grabs your face and kisses you hard. “Fuck yeah!” 

You’re grinning massively as you meet him kiss for kiss, arms crawling up around his shoulders. 

“Best. Surprise. Ever.” He holds you still for a series of quick pecks, deviating from your lips to kiss your cheek, your nose. “Shit, is it, like, super unromantic if I start taking your clothes off?” 

“Kinda,” you say, though you don’t deny him when one of his hands slips down to paw at your ass. “We’re maybe fifty feet from a high school right now.” 

“Mhm, mhm, but hear me out.” Eddie’s words are interspersed with little suctioning sounds, his lips planting themselves eagerly upon any bit of you they can find. “Back when we went here, that would have been the hottest thing, you know? We can even go under the bleachers if you want.” 

You don’t open your eyes, but they’re rolling. “My ovaries are quaking.” 

Eddie groans low in his throat and squeezes your ass teasingly. “So stubborn.” 

“We can go back to your place,” you offer. 

“No, no.” He sighs, heavy and dramatic. “We’d have to drive, and I’m not ready to be across a console from you yet.” Eddie backs you up until your backside hits the picnic table, helping you up and positioning himself between your legs. His arms wrap around you again, half makeout and half hug. “Let’s stay here for a while. Wouldn’t be able to focus on the road anyway.” 

[danthropologie]

Re the previous ask about blake holding camera = he knew

1. He has his camera in every race. I don’t know if Blake holding it meant anything.

2. He had his parents out in AD22. With SG being closer, his parents would have made it even if it was by flying private. His gf wasn’t there in AD22 either, so not making that comparison

3. Compare his pre-race interview (not even the media day one) during the parade. Complete change from the post race interview. Complete change in demeanour

Combining 2 & 3, if he knew earlier, the earliest could be right before the race. Then why would management do sth like that before the race? (Then again why does rbr do anything atp?) That man knew nothing concrete going into the weekend, just like he predicted nothing amiss before the summer break. That hell video wasn’t for nothing - no one can make me believe otherwise

Alternatively, he himself might have given rbr the ultimatum hoping to force their hand and when they didn’t get back, he finally realised he was done playing this game. He was finally disillusioned. ofc helping max was one part (i genuinely believe that played in his mind when he was asked for the FL) and sticking to mcl was another part, but at the end if the record breaking lap was what he could take away in what he believed was his last moment in the lap, he put his entire ricussy into getting it.

As much as I want to remain delulu, i think (with extreme sadness) this is it for him. Not because it’s over, but HOW it’s over. All because they decided to keep a bum like Checo. I’m ambivalent towards Yuki, but heck I am even angry on his behalf too. Genuinely gutted that rb did DR dirtier than mcl and that’s saying sth, considering all he had done for rbr and how CH and rbr paraded him around as their family member. Will never forgive them. Rbr’s downfall is gonna be something else altogether and you best believe that I will be there to witness and bask in it.

so what you're saying is that clip of helmut going over to daniel just before the race, he was actually inflicting psychological torture on him saying "you better fucking beat that guy or you're out of the sport. good luck! 😉"

no but seriously, i was with you right up until the end bit 😭😭😭 even the idea of giving them some sort of 'red bull or nothing' ultimatum that sent him spiraling i could get on board with. but i don't agree that it's over.

the crazy thing to me is that for as far as it ended up spiraling out, to ME it really just feels like a complex series of misunderstandings and miscalculations (not including the media's part in it cause i think they WERE malicious in their handling of it).

the daniel of it all is the worst part to me because obviously by the end of the weekend he HAD been convinced that it may in fact be the end. i don't believe that that was ever actually the case, but between the confidence in the way the media was reporting it, the lack of clarity from red bull, the trauma and insecurities left from 2022 mclaren and maybe even rbr over this past summer break, and the mental and emotional toll the race itself actually took on him, he was clearly worn down and left in a very vulnerable state where he drew the only real conclusions anyone in his position COULD draw.

meanwhile you have vcarb who apparently didn't know a single fucking thing, so they COULDN'T say anything because there's nothing TO say.

and then you have red bull. now clearly they DO hold some responsibility for the whole thing. they knew what the narratives were going into the weekend, and it should have been easy for them to just clarify that all drivers are going to see out the season, 2025 decision to come later. BUT that being said, i truly do not think they had any clue whatsoever just how big this thing was gonna get. i think they miscalculated in thinking a) it wasn't going to be that big and b) daniel would be able to handle it. he's done it so many times before! why wouldn't he be able to do it again! but then obviously by the time daniel's having his little menty b in the middle of the media pen, it's too late, there's not really anything they can do.

like jenna @accio-ricciardo brought up this idea the other day that it's almost like...have you ever been in a situation where someone in your life accidentally made you cry because they didn't realize you were at the end of your rope emotionally and some tiny little thing they didn't think was even a big deal sets you off and sends you sobbing? it kind of feels like perhaps that was red bull/christian/whoever with daniel. they figured he's a trooper, he'll let it wash off his back like he always does, he can handle it, not realize that he very much COULD NOT handle it because all these different factors were boiling up into the perfect shitstorm to make him absolutely lose his mind.

and if this is the case—it really was just a bunch of misunderstandings and miscalculations compounding and multiplying on each other—i've said it once, i'll say it a million times, i DO think there's a way back and way for things to continue on as they were meant to before all this shit happened. it's just a matter of apologies and reassurances and making things right, and hopefully everyone can set aside their pride enough for that to happen.

[offside-the-lines]

tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier | Ep 8. Summer

This is a completed series! Read Full Fic | 🧸 Series Cover Page/Masterlist 🧁 | 🎵 Playlist 🎶 << Previous Episode || Ep 8 || Next Episode >>

Chapter Summary: They try to get on with their summers as if nothing is wrong, convincing no one. How long will it take them to realize they can’t keep pretending like everything’s fine? And who will finally take the leap of faith?

A/N: You can refer to cover page for the series summary, author's notes, tropes, general warnings and other fun tidbits. This series contains mature themes. Minors DNI. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team.

Word count: 4.8k // 44.5k

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III. Summer

Evie — April 24

Evie drops her head back against the cold ceramic of her bathtub. She had wished when she had first gotten in that the scalding hot water would loosen the knot in her chest. So far, it isn’t working, and the water's already lukewarm.

Evie had given herself the rest of the 21st to mope in her apartment. She put her phone on silent, sat in front of her TV watching old Disney movies, and ate so much ice cream and pizza she felt sick. She had cried all through the Lion King— Hakuna Matata could only remind her of one person now— but she tried to be normal when Tito had called, confirming he had safely landed and made it home.

She pulled herself out of bed the next morning and asked her manager, Gibbs if there were any extra assignments she could be doing. She made sure to have a conversation with Evie about work-life balance, which Evie just blindly nodded through, but gave her a few more pieces to edit all the same.

Evie sinks deeper into the water, thankful that the ache in her muscles has been seeping away slowly, at least. For the past few days, she has been sitting in front of her computer, only leaving to use the bathroom and pick up the take-out she orders.

It hasn’t been bad; the focus has meant that she’s now ahead of schedule on her work assignments, and she's making significant progress on her book. Elizabeth, the agent— her agent— hadn’t given her a deadline, but she knows the book is being shopped around to publishers. The sooner she can get a draft done, the better.

Her conversations with Tito have also returned to a familiar pace; it almost feels like he’s just on an extended road trip. It’s only when her eyes catch on the glaringly empty spots around her apartment that she remembers he’s not coming back.

She slides all the way into the cooling water. She hates getting her hair wet in bath water, but she’s hoping it might force her to think about literally anything else. She breathes out and watches the bubbles rise to the surface.

Yeah, didn’t think so.

She sits up, sending water crashing over the edge. Fuck. She watches her bath mat get slowly darker and decides that’s good enough for now. She steps out and begrudgingly washes her hair in the shower.

She’s still deep in thought, drying her hair at the sink, when she notices the second toothbrush still sitting in the holder next to hers. Somehow, she’s gone the past four days without noticing it. She just stares at it; she thinks she should probably just throw it out, but she can’t bring herself to do it.

Evie puts her hairdryer down and just looks at herself in the mirror. Her skin looks sallower than it should be by late spring; it makes her dark circles more noticeable. She knows she looks tired— she is tired. But she also doesn’t want to take a break. 

Without meaning to, her hand comes up to touch her neck; the bruises there are almost gone now. Her fingers push on the biggest one firmly— barely any sensation. Evie bites her lip as she traces the path they take down her chest. She sighs, squeezing her eyes shut as she turns off the lights and steps back out into her bedroom.

Tito — April 28

Tito decides it’s probably time to show his face downstairs when the clock hits 11 am and trudges down the stairs in sweatpants and a hoodie. He can’t decide if he would feel better if his mom was downstairs in the kitchen or not around. He finds out that he's relieved when he sees her sitting at the dining table. She smiles at him softly and stands up when she spots him.

“Good morning, honey.” His mom pulls him in for a hug, and he just lets himself melt into it. She pushes his hood off and gently smooths down his hair. “Do you want me to make you anything for breakfast?”

He sighs. It feels weird to ask his mother to make him breakfast at his age, but the tug in his chest just lets him nod. “Yes, please.”

“Okay,” she says as she drops a kiss to his temple, pushing him to the kitchen island, “What do you want? Omelette?”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, sliding onto a stool, “Thanks, Mama.”

He sits in silence, watching her work, the familiar sight settling some of the unease in his stomach. His fingers pick at the fraying edge of the dish towel in front of him.

“Hey, Mama?” he asks softly.

She hums in response.

“Do we have any tea?”

She turns around, her eyebrows slightly raised, “Tea?”

“Uh… yeah,” his voice quiet.

Her brows furrow for a second before returning to neutral. “Yeah, honey. It’s in that drawer over there,” she says, pointing with the spatula.

He puts the kettle on while he opens the drawer to look at his options: chamomile, green tea, Earl Grey. He settles on what he thinks would be the closest to the one he usually drinks, Earl Grey. 

When he sits back down, he takes a deep inhale of the tea; the aroma does seem to help him relax. He can’t place why he suddenly wants to cry, but he bites his lip to push through it.

He feels a gentle squeeze on his arm. “Come on, let’s go sit at the table,” his mom suggests, and he follows her without comment.

“Thanks for the omelette,” he says, looking at her worried expression and forcing himself to smile before digging in.

Even though it tastes as good as it always does, he finds himself struggling to finish the plate in front of him. He just ends up staring at the plate, pushing the eggs around for some time before his mother’s voice breaks through his haze.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she asks gently.

“Hmm?” He looks up, startled. “Oh, nothing. It’s really delicious. I just think I’m full.”

She sighs, getting up from her usual seat at the other end of the table and sitting down next to him. She rests a warm, solid hand on his forearm.

“Anthony, you know that’s not what I meant. What’s going on? You haven’t been yourself since you’ve come home.” Her voice is so full of concern he flinches.

“I’m just tired, Mama. I promise I’m okay,” he forces himself to say.

“You know you can talk to me, right? Or if it’s about hockey, your father? Or even Franky. I know this year has been hard for you. Are you worried about next year? Contract talks?”

He swallows hard, “Something like that, yeah.”

She hums mournfully and pulls him into her side. “I know, it sucks. I hate to see you hurting like this. Do you think you’re going to go into the city soon? I think maybe seeing some friends will cheer you up. You’ve been in your room so much it’s making me— You know you can stay here as long as you like. You can stay here for the whole summer if you want. But I’m worried about you. You need to get outside. Take your mind off whatever’s bothering you.” Her hand rubs along his arm as he turns into her shoulder, sobs trapped in his throat.

He is not going to cry right now. He is not going to cry right now. He is not going to cry right now. 

He counts his breathing until it feels a little more under control before sitting back up and sending his mom a small smile. “I know, that’s probably a good idea. They’ve been blowing up my phone for the past week.”

“Is that who you’ve been talking to on your phone? We weren’t eavesdropping, just— You sounded like you’re having a good time, is all. Maybe you should see whoever that is?”

He doesn’t manage to hold in the heaving sigh that escapes his lips. “Yes— Well, no. But I’ll reach out to some of the boys to see what they’re up to. I want to go see the babies too, so I might go and visit Franky soon.”

“Good,” his mom nods, smiling, “Good. You know, your father and I love you so much. Whatever happens with your career, we are so proud of you. So so proud. No matter what, it’s going to be fine— you’re going to be fine. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, Mama. I know,” he says wetly.

She leans in to kiss him on the forehead, wiping away the tears that managed to escape. “Now, finish your breakfast.”

A fragile laugh bubbles out of him. “Okay.”

Evie — May 4

Evie opens her door in confusion to find Kelsey and Leanne standing there. She can't do anything but watch as they barge inside, clearing her mess and pulling food out of a Thai takeaway bag.

“Uh, guys? What are you doing?” she asks more urgently.

“We,” Leanne starts, voice stern, “Are fixing whatever this is.” She looks at Evie with a pointed stare.

“Yeah,” Kelsey joins in, just as enthusiastically, “We haven’t seen you, and we've barely even heard from you in two weeks.”

“And!” Leanne points, accusatory, “We heard from Gibbs that you’ve taken on like three new projects, and you’ve already finished one of them. Have you even slept?”

“Yeah, you don’t look like you’ve slept.” Kelsey walks over and pokes at her face. “Have you even washed your hair this week?”

“Well, actually, I—” Evie starts to protest and then thinks about it. Kelsey’s right. She hasn’t washed her hair this week. 

“Gigi, what’s going on?” Kelsey’s face softens as her hands come to rest on Evie’s shoulders.

“I mean nothing, really; I haven’t been as focused on work so far this year, so I want to catch up. I guess I’ve been working a little too hard.”

Leanne and Kelsey look at each other, and both roll their eyes. 

“What?” Evie squeaks.

“Go,” Kelsey pushes her to the couch, “Sit down. Go!”

Evie sighs and just complies. To her surprise, they just enjoy each other’s company: hanging out, chatting, and laughing. Over the course of the evening, she starts to feel the deep tiredness in her bones. She feels the dull edges of her mind and the ache in her back. She had gotten so used to Tito’s presence that she didn’t really notice all the ways he had seeped into her life until he was gone. 

It’s a couple hours later when she’s digging into a pint of Cherry Garcia, that they speak up again.

“So, are you gonna tell us how you’re doing now? Honestly?” Leanne prods, innocently blinking at her.

Evie sighs and rests her head on the couch. She blinks at the ceiling and tugs on the strings of her hoodie— Tito’s hoodie. She’s been wearing it every day and hasn’t washed it yet, even though it doesn’t really smell like him anymore.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve been kinda M.I.A. recently, huh?” Evie chuckles humorlessly. “After the whole—” She cuts herself off and waves her hands around. “You know? I just wanted to not think for a bit. Just shut my thoughts off. Work’s been good for that.”

“You know you can talk to me— to us— whenever, right?” Kelsey offers gently.

“I know, I know. I just don’t even— Like I made a choice, and I still stand by it— I just…” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “I think I just miss him more than I thought I would. Like, we still text all the time, and we FaceTime multiple times a day, so it’s not like I could even ask for more. But yeah, it feels really weird now without him here? Just so quiet and empty. Which is ridiculous because this place is tiny and barely fit both of us.”

“You guys never talked about it?” Leanne asks.

“Yeah, even after those hickeys? I mean, we were obviously preoccupied, but I saw the way you both looked. I mean, my god, Lee, you should’ve seen them,” Kelsey says, leaning towards Leanne conspiratorially.

Evie groans and buries her head in her hands. “Don’t remind me,” she mumbles into her palms. “Nothing really even happened. Like, we made out a bit, but—”

“You what!” Leanne screams.

Kelsey laughs, “Oh my god, Lee. When they came around that corner, I swear— You’re telling me, you guys didn’t fuck because it—”

“Oh my god, stop!” Evie groans into her hands, covering her reddening face, unable to suppress her laughs. 

She’s thought about that night plenty: standing at the sink, taking a shower, cooking at the stove, sitting on her couch, typing on her laptop. All. Day. She tries to bury it down deep every time she talks to Tito and sees his sleep-tousled hair when he’s sitting up against his headboard shirtless in the morning light. 

“Earth to Gigi?” Kelsey pushes her shoulder lightly.

“We lost you for a second there. Do you need us to, like, give you some time or something?” Leanne winks, smirking.

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” Evie tries to glare at them and fails spectacularly, bursting into laughter.

“Wait, okay, so you seriously didn’t fuck?” Kelsey asks once they’ve calmed down.

“No!” she gasps, through giggles, before calming down. “No, we were interrupted—” 

“Sorry,” Leanne winces.

“No, stop, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Evie reaches out to squeeze Leanne’s hand. Evie feels guilty that deep down, she irrationally does hate Leanne a little.

“I know— it just should never have happened. And it fucked up your night. I feel fucking bad about that.”

“Well, don’t. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. It probably would’ve been a mistake anyway. We had our chance, and we didn’t take it. I guess— I guess I’ve been moping a little about that. Just that, you know, it’s too late.”

Leanne takes her hand and squeezes it in return, “I really don’t think it’s too late.”

“Yeah, what Lee said. I don’t really know what you think you’re too late for.” Evie opens her mouth to interrupt, and Kelsey just shakes her head. “No, shut up, just listen, okay? You guys still talk all the time. And if nothing has changed. Then you’re not too late. ‘Cause you guys are already dating— you have been for months— you just don’t know it yet, apparently.”

Evie opens her mouth and shuts it, unsure what to say to that. She stares at her ice cream, pushing the rapidly melting mess around with her spoon. Eventually, she says, “I don’t know. Even if we were, we never talked about it. And it’s not going to matter if he doesn’t re-sign here.”

“You think?” Leanne cocks her head. “Why do you say that? Like, you guys can do long distance. Or, you could move. You work remotely full time.”

Kelsey nods vigorously. “I mean, I don’t want you to move. But— If you didn’t want to move, you can always travel to him during the season however often you’d like. I think if you guys want to, you can make it work.”

“Yeah, if only to see where it goes,” Leanne echoes enthusiastically.

Evie looks at both of them, staring expectantly at her. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to mess up what we have.”

“Honey, not to beat a dead horse, but you’re already dating. You’re more dating each other than Leanne here is with her actual girlfriend of like almost a year—”

“Hey! What the fuck? Why you gotta bring me into this?” Leanne squawks.

Evie laughs as they squabble for a second, muttering, “God, I can never introduce you guys to Barzy. You three would be insufferable together.”

If Evie is honest with herself, she does think about saying something. She catches herself flirting with Tito constantly. She can tell Tito’s thinking about it, too, with the way she notices him flirting back— or just flirting with her in general.

“Seriously, though,” Kelsey says after a while, “You should think about it. About saying something.”

She smirks, “I do think about it sometimes. He keeps FaceTiming me shirtless, or in just a towel, or sweaty after a run. It’s fucking killing me, and I’m pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose.”

Both girls squeal, somewhat deafeningly, demanding to know details. Evie’s tired. She’s tired from working fourteen hours a day for two weeks. She’s tired of hiding, pretending like she feels differently than she knows she does. She’s tired of lying to herself. So she just lets go, allowing them to pull out whatever gossip they like from her lips.

Tito — May 13

Tito sits on a foam plyometric box and pants. For the first time in his life, he hates the soreness in every single muscle in his body. It’s been impossible to find any satisfaction in the burn. He knows that he needs to stay in shape. He also knows that out of all the summers in his career so far, this one's important. He knows he needs to make an immediate impact wherever he lands next season. 

If he’s sick of the gym after only a week, he’s ten times more sick of the calls with his agent. Every time he gets an update, he feels a headache right between his eyes.

“Tired, already?” Francis asks. “Well, you’ve still got two circuits left.”

Tito groans so loudly it draws the laughs of the other NHL guys training around him.

Francis nudges his foot, “You can ignore me, but your rest is up. Come on, get up!”

Tito sighs and follows his brother to the next station. A group of guys have the gym booked after them. Most notably, he spotted Brandon Gignac when they walked a few minutes ago. He thinks about whether he should say hi. He’s worried that it would be obvious to Brandon that Tito thinks about his sister every moment of every day. 

At the next break, Francis interrupts his thoughts. “So who’s the girl?”

Tito chokes on his drink and barely avoids spitting it all over the gym floor. He coughs hard, trying to get rid of the burning feeling in his throat. The smirk on Francis’s face is so smug and so knowing that he wants to just turn around and walk out the gym door. 

“What?” he splutters. 

“Anthony, I’ve literally known you your entire life. You’re always on your phone. Mom says she hears you on the phone all the time. You suddenly drink— what is it? Earl Grey?— well, tea all the time now. Trust me, I know there’s a girl.”

Tito snorts. “Aren’t you supposed to be bugging me about the next circuit already?” 

Francis hums and looks at the clock on the wall behind Tito. “Hmm… You’re right. But we're talking about this when you’re done.”

“No, we’re not,” Tito mumbles under his breath as they walk over to the final station.

They're cleaning off the equipment when Francis sidles next to him again.

“So…?” he starts casually, “Who’s saved in your phone as chouchou with a couple emojis next to it then?”

“What?” Tito says too loudly. “How do you know—” He slams his mouth shut, but he doesn’t quite stop himself from glancing over at Brandon.

“Wait,” Frances says, following his eye line.

Tito tears his eyes away so fast that he gets a little dizzy. “Franky, I swear to god.”

“Wait a sec— Oh my god. Oh my god!” Francis says, too loud.

“Francis! Shut up!” he whispers.

“Oh my god,” Francis leans in closer, even while Tito continues to ignore him, “It’s Gigi, isn’t it? I can’t believe— God, it’s so obvious now, you bring her up in our calls all the time.”

“Francis, I swear I’m going to rip your balls off,” he hisses through his teeth.

“Okay, well, you’re not going to because you love your nephews, and you want a niece,” he grins smugly. “So, are you going to tell me anything?”

“No,” Tito turns to glare at him, “No I’m not, because there’s nothing to tell. We're just friends. Shut. Up.”

He can’t stop his gaze from darting to Brandon in the mirror as he finishes wiping the bench, his jaw clenched so tight he can feel a low throb of pain in his skull. When he’s done, he meets Francis’s eyes again. He thinks he hates the sympathy he sees there more.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Stop looking at me like that,” he grunts.

“Tito, it’s okay if she doesn’t like you. You’re a catch; there’ll be others.” Francis squeezes Tito’s shoulder as they start walking towards the changing room.

“That’s not the— She’s not— It’s complicated, okay?” Tito sighs, frustrated.

Francis scans his face, a look on his face that's so much more ‘dad’ than ‘big brother’ it hurts. I guess that's what happens when you have two kids. 

“You should go say hi, then. He’s looking over here. It would be rude not to,” he whispers. Before Tito can respond at all, he pushes him to Brandon with a wave.

“Fuck you,” he mutters quietly over his shoulder before turning around and sending a smile at Brandon.

“Hey, Tito! It’s good to see you!” Brandon calls to him with a big smile on his face.

“Hey Brandy, what’s up?” Tito smiles, extending a fist bump.

Evie — May 24

“Evie, I'm so fucking proud of you!” Tito’s voice rings so clear and bright through her phone, his smile infectious as he beams at her. “You fucking did it!”

She giggles. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a published author!”

“Well, I can.”

“Oh, stop it. You haven’t even read it; how could you know?” she scoffs.

“Well, firstly, you’re probably the most eloquent person I know—”

“Big word,” she quips.

“What can I say? I like it when you teach me things.” 

She’s mesmerized by the movement of his neck as he laughs. She just wants to reach through the screen and touch the soft skin there. 

“Seriously, Evie. You’re incredible. I can’t believe you still don’t see that. You know better than anyone that they wouldn’t just take on any book. They must’ve also seen how great you are.”

Evie shifts in her seat, “I— I don’t know what to even say to that, Solou.”

Tito sends her a smile that makes a warmth spread through her chest. “You can take me out for that dinner you keep talking about.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, mon chou. Something really fancy,” he grins cheekily, “I’m not a cheap date.”

A nervous laugh bubbles out of her, her cheeks warm at the thought of actually sitting across from him at a restaurant again. They’ve done that plenty, exploring the many different restaurants around Chicago— as friends. She can’t help but wonder if it would feel different as a date. 

“I’ll keep that in mind then,” she says, her voice strained.

They're silent for a moment, both lost in their thoughts, gazing softly at each other through the pixels of their phones. It just doesn’t feel like enough.

“You know, I would accept a McDonald’s drive-thru if that meant I could celebrate with you,” he pauses and sucks in a deep breath, “I’m sorry I can’t be there tonight.”

Her breath hitches, her heart thundering in her chest, “Oh. That’s— That would’ve been nice, yeah.”

He sighs, his face straining against a sad smile. “So, what are your plans tonight? You gonna go out with the girls?”

“Yeah, Kelsey booked us a table somewhere— she won’t tell me where. Just told me to wear something nice.”

“Well, I mean, that’s not going to be hard,” he smirks.

“Shut up.” Evie rolls her eyes, the corner of her mouth twitching into a grin.

“You look hot in literally everything. But, if you want, I can help you pick an outfit,” Tito winks.

“God, you’re so—” she groans. Her cheeks are flaming, and she watches herself get redder in the small box in the corner of her screen. She sets her phone down, drags her hands down her face, and emits a silent scream.

“What?” She can hear his voice call smugly through her speakers. “It’s the truth! Come on, show me what you’re going to wear.”

Evie shakes her head, ignoring the small flicker of heat that licks at the base of her spine. That seems to happen every time they video call lately,  the flirting between them becoming shameless. They’ve been playing a dangerous game, trying to catch each other off guard; every so often, she picks up the video call in just a thin, loose-fitting tank top or a loosely wrapped towel.

She sets him up on her nightstand, against some books, and shows him a few dresses she got recently. She catalogs each response for examination later. She knows immediately she’ll be wearing the silk, floral dress that made him bright red and mute for a minute. 

“God, I think that’s the most beautiful— You look incredible, chou. Fuck,” he had whispered eventually, voice tight and strained. She had sent him a wink, did a little twirl, and giggled as she ran off camera to change back into her tank top and shorts. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears that she could barely hear him when she sat back down.

By the time they hang up, her cheeks are sore from smiling, and she feels so light and happy despite the ache she feels at his absence.

She opens her Instagram and swipes through all the congratulatory comments on the publisher’s post. Her eye catches on a notification.

@titobeauvi91 mentioned you in their story

She clicks on it to see that he has shared the publisher’s post with the caption, “So proud of my best friend! What an incredible and deserved success. I can’t wait to read the book when it’s out. Watch this space for more details!!!”

She watches it three times, marveling at his unending support, and something clicks in her mind.

She searches through Tito’s Instagram and sends a message to Francis before she can change her mind.

To @tankus22: Hi, I don’t know if you remember me or my brother Brandon Gignac. Or if Tito’s mentioned me. But I was just wondering if I could give you a call sometime about his birthday next month?

Tito — June 1

To chouchou 🧁✨: hey, you booked your flights home for fête nationale yet? i wanna make sure i’m around. barz keeps asking me to go out to BC to see him this summer. chouchou 🧁✨: not yet, but probably going to fly in the friday before? like the 21st or something. To chouchou 🧁✨: nice! you got any plans for that yet?

His mind keeps flicking back to his birthday next week; he feels the stinging pain inside his ribcage. It’s not like he asked her to come. There’s no reason for her to come. He’s not having a big party or anything, just a dinner at his parents’ house. 

His friends might drag him out during the week when he comes back to the city. PLD has been complaining about his ‘sad boy’ status all summer— his words, not Tito’s. He just can’t bring himself to go out, especially now that Brandon’s reconnected with the group. The two groups have largely combined; they’re training together, hanging out afterward, and, more importantly, going to bars and clubs together. 

He likes Brandon a lot, but it makes Tito feel like he’s crawling out of his skin when he’s texting Evie the whole time they’re hanging out. Like he’s hiding something. He’s glad that she told him that they were friends, at least. 

He’s also extremely glad that Francis is usually busy with his family or the new training program he’s running. Anytime Francis and Brandon are in the same room, he sends smug, all-knowing looks at Tito the whole day. It makes him feel off balance, stumbling over his words, his skin too tight.

He picks up his phone again when it vibrates in his pocket.

chouchou 🧁✨: nope! not yet. you going to a party or anything? To chouchou 🧁✨: eh? i’ve been invited to a couple. haven’t made up my mind yet. chouchou 🧁✨: well let me know if you do!

Tito sighs and picks up his Xbox controller again. He tries to not feel too disappointed that he probably won’t see her for a few weeks still. He wishes he didn’t miss her so keenly that it consumes him. At least the Earl Grey tea is still weirdly comforting.

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[probably-writing-x]

Summer Heat - Chapter Two

Summary: Rafe had met his match when he met you. Both completely opposite and all too similar - the Kook and the Pogue who worked for his father; the hot headed boy and the girl who never backed down. And as summer rolls around on the island, tensions run high amongst the hottest enemies that OBX has ever seen.

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: Sexual references, cursing, alcohol, and ngl just a hell of a lot of tension

Author’s Note: This series is so fun to write so I hope you’re still enjoying it - I have so many ideas … including some smut to come in the next chapter …

~~~

The heat still isn’t letting up over the islands, and living on the Cut meant no air conditioning, and likely one fan to share between your entire house. Your sister, Lea, was currently sat out under the shade of your porch, her legs stretched out over the old couch so far that her ankles hung just over the edge - she had a textbook in her hand, reading over the notes she’d already highlighted. She’d always been naturally pretty, always looking softer and more approachable than you ever had. She was just over a year older than you, but had the sort of head on her shoulders that meant she felt it was certain she had to take care of you. It seemed apparent sometimes that she still refused to believe you had ever grown up. Lea had gotten older but she wouldn’t admit that you had too.

“Are you working today?” She asks you when she hears the door creak to signify your presence.

“No, I just need to go over there and drop something off,” You comment, leaning against the doorframe and picking off some of the peeling white paint from over the wood.

Lea sits up a little and looks at you, “And afterwards?”

You shrug, “Probably just hang out with the guys.”

“You know you don’t need to spend every day with those guys?” She frowns at you, “All they do is sit around, drink and smoke, right?”

“What else do you want them to do?” You scoff, “There’s fuck all to do on this island.”

Lea pushes herself up to stand, fanning her face with her hands, “Maybe you could all afford to be a bit more productive, it might give you more of a chance to get out of this place.”

You roll your eyes at her, “I have to go.”

It would never fail to irritate you when she said things like that, the kind of mindset that you were ruining your life just by the people you stuck with around here. The two of you were Pogues, and your Dad had been too. But Lea was reluctant to admit that, convincing herself that you could get away from all of it if you just pretended to not be one of them.

You turn the key in the ignition to your car and start your drive towards the Camerons’ house, passing the other battered houses in the cut that looked almost completely identical to your own - all on their last legs.

~~~

You’re stood in front of the Camerons’ house waiting for the door to open with a silent prayer in your mind that their air con will give you a moment of relief from the sun beating down on your back.

“For fuck’s sake I-“ You start to mutter to yourself just as the door swings open.

Rafe is stood on the other side, a smirk on his face. He’s wearing a green t-shirt and a pair of slack trousers, “Can I help you?”

“I was just coming over to drop the keys off,” You comment, glancing down at his outfit once more, “How the fuck are you wearing that today?”

You were stood opposite him in a blue halter neck top that you’d stolen from your sister, with a pair of gym shorts that had ridden high up on your thighs. And, even then, it felt like you were going to boil if you stood in the sun for much longer.

“Air conditioning is a wonderful invention, (Y/N),” He offers you a sarcastic smile, “Or have you guys still not heard of that invention?”

“I hope it breaks, I really do,” You roll your eyes at him and he laughs.

He’s got one hand on the door like he’s prepared to shut it at the first opportunity, but he is yet to make the move to do so. Instead, he’s letting his eyes trail over you, lazily like he doesn’t care if you notice - dipping over every curve of your body and the way your clothes leave little to his imagination.

“My Dad needs you to work tomorrow. We’ve got some business partners coming over and we’ll need you on the boat to keep everything in check. Be here before five.” Rafe comments, his eyes dragging themselves back up to yours.

“Some manners would go a long way Rafe,” You roll your eyes, “But yeah, I’ll be here.”

“See you tomorrow, Princess.”

___________

Like the loyal worker you were, you’re at the Cameron’s house just before five the following day. You still weren’t exactly sure what today would consist of, but Ward had mentioned that he’d pay you extra - who were you to say no. Oh, and he’d told you to dress ‘smart’, which in Kiara’s words meant he expected you to wear a dress. You’d stolen one from your sister that she’d had from a few years ago, a royal blue fitted dress with thin spaghetti straps - it was a little shorter on you than it had been on her, and it was tighter around your chest, so you’d thrown a white baggy linen shirt over the top.

“(Y/N)!” It’s Ward that opens the door to you, “Thanks for coming.”

As much as you weren’t his biggest fan, he’d never been the worst boss to have. He paid you half-decently, he didn’t really expect too much from you, and he wasn’t as much of a dick as his son was - that had to count for something.

“Hey, I hope I’m not late,” You smile.

“No, no, right on time,” He encourages, “Come through.”

Their house never failed to amaze you, the winding staircase and the maze of doors, the antiques littered around every corner of the room, the slight hints of history that still remained over their repainted walls. There was no real sense of family in the place, no photos over the walls, no memories amongst their belongings - it was a house, not a home. But, damn, it was a big house at that.

“So we’ve got some business deals going on at the minute and so a few of the guys have come over today. Just some drinks, and some poker on the boat, nothing much,” He explains, “And hopefully them drinking enough that they agree to do business with us.”

You force yourself to laugh at his half-hearted attempt at a joke, certain you would never relate to when he spoke about his life like that.

“We just need you pottering around really, drinks, food, sorting out some stuff on deck - sound good?”

Realistically, you weren’t sure at what point you’d agreed to become a waitress. But business men likely meant they’d give you tips too, and bills were due next week. So you swallow your pride for just a second and accept his offer.

You follow Ward onto the boat and notice that Rafe is already there, leaning back on one of the couches with his arm up on the back of the cushions. One ankle is up and resting over the knee of his other leg, his chinos tightening around his crotch. He looks up at you and cocks a brow, waiting for his Dad to leave before he says;

“If you’re going to wear a dress like that at least wear it properly,” His eyes haven’t left you, tracing the way it hugs your figure.

“Why? So your pervert friends can stare at my tits all night?”

He swallows the lump in his throat and clenches his jaw, “Wear what you want, I don’t care,” But he looks away from you then, and you’re sure his cheeks are a little redder, his tan failing to hide it.

It’s later in the evening by the time the guests arrive, the small group of them spilling onto the boat just as the sun was beginning to set. They all ask for whiskeys when you walk over to them and shoot Ward comments like ‘where’ve you been hiding her’. You ignore it, pouring out five glasses of whiskey. Rafe eyes you as you bring them over, setting them down on the table they had all set out for poker. You don’t look at him, sure that your cheeks will redden more than they already have done.

They’re chatting between themselves and you hear one of them make a comment about not being sure which yacht he should buy. Fucking rich people. They drink their whiskey’s too quickly and you’re filling them up again before any of them even ask, hoping to go as long as you can without speaking too much to these guys.

“So, Rafe, is this lovely lady your girlfriend?” One of them asks.

You look up over the table and stare directly at Rafe. He has his jaw clenched and he doesn’t look at you. There’s a difference in his demeanour when he’s around these kind of people, like he’s trying to convince himself he’s capable of being more like his father.

“You know me, I don’t date,” He returns, making sure that his eyes never once find yours, looking down instead at the liquid that he is swirling around in his glass.

“(Y/N) works for us, on the boat,” Ward explains, “Keeps this thing afloat.”

You force yourself to smile at them, feeling the need to pull the material of your shirt around your dress, like the thought of this group looking might make you sick right on the spot.

“Alright, what do you say we start a game?” Ward clasps his hands together, “(Y/N), Rose should’ve made some food in the house, do you mind bringing it over?”

You take a deep breath, all of you relieved to be able to leave the situation even if for just a minute, “Sure.”

When you get back, they’re onto their second round, and it is just Rafe and one other guy left. He must be one of the mens’ sons - only a six or seven years older than you. You’d learnt his name was Shane but didn’t know much else. You set down the food onto the table and step back.

“(Y/N), you know a thing or two about poker?” Shane asks you, a smirk dancing over his lips, “What would you do with this?”

You glance down at his cards, and look over at the four already laid out on the table, “I’d say it couldn’t hurt to take a shot.”

He raises a brow at you and you see his eyes slip a little lower than they should, looking back up at your face, “Alright, I raise.”

He throws a stack of 1000 chips onto the table.

“Oh I don’t-“ You go to retract your suggestion but Rafe throws in the same amount, keeping his eyes away from you like before.

Ward leans forward to burn a card, putting it onto the second pile before turning over the next one to line it up next to the others.

It leaves Shane with a three of a kind.

Rafe tosses his cards onto the table, only two pairs in his hand, “Well played,” His eyes are cold when they stare at Shane, like he could reach over the table and punch him at just the sight of the guy.

“Well, thanks for the tip, Princess,” Shane cocks a brow at you, “I should keep you around.”

Rafe grips a hand around his glass to tight you’re sure it would break in his grasp, his knuckles turning white under the tension. He’s staring at the cards on the table, fixating on them as if it is the one thing that will stop him from cracking. In that moment, you know it’s not the game making him lose all cool.

~~~

It’s late when the guys finally decide to leave, you tell Ward you’ll clean up and let yourself out and he thanks you, tucking a few hundreds into your hand like it’s just pocket change. You pick up a few of the stray bottles from around the deck and go back inside, letting out a sigh of relief you felt like you’d been holding for hours.

At the table, Rafe is still sat, swirling his finger around the rim of his glass.

“Shit, sorry,” You say quickly, “I didn’t realise anyone was here.”

“Sit down,” He commands, “Play a round with me.”

You set down the bottles onto the counter and frown at him, “What?”

“You heard me.”

You clear your throat and sit down in the chair directly opposite him, feeling strangely out of your depth when you were so close under his focused gaze. Rafe gulps down the last of his drink and leans forward, dealing out two cards to you and another two to him.

“What are we playing for?” You ask him, lifting up one side of the two cards on the table to see what you had.

3 of clubs and 6 of hearts.

He doesn’t answer your question, instead burning a card and then turning over three to face up. There’s a four and a seven amongst them and you fight back the urge to smile at the possibility of actually beating him.

He throws in a couple of 100 chips and you follow suit, though not exactly sure what it meant when you wouldn’t be giving him any money, and you wouldn’t be caught dead taking money from Rafe.

The air between you feels warmer now, you can feel it tingling against your skin just slightly uncomfortably. You move your hands up to pull the material of your shirt away from your shoulders, fully exposing the dress underneath.

Rafe looks up at you and cocks a brow, “Are you trying to distract me (Y/L/N)?”

You lean your elbows onto the table in front of you and clasp your fingers together, resting your chin atop them, “You tell me.”

He keeps his eyes completely locked on yours as he pulls out another card, lining it up against the others. Not what you wanted.

You wince, looking down at your cards as if you weren’t absolutely certain of what was there. Rafe narrows his eyes at you like he’s trying to see past your face, before taking the rest of his chips and pushing them into the centre of the table.

“All in,”

“All in?” You smirk, “I guess I have no choice.”

He turns over the last card and leans forward, like all that matters is watching you move. It’s a five. Rafe reaches a hand to turn his cards over, no hand amongst them. You turn yours over and line them up underneath the five in the middle.

“Straight.”

He smirks at you and sits back in his chair, “Well done Princess.”

You roll your eyes, “It’s not as if we’re playing for anything anyway.”

He pushes himself up from his chair and walks around the width of the table until he gets to your side, in the few agonisingly slow seconds that it takes him to reach you. Rafe towers over you, his frame blocking the moonlight from outside and leaving you both in an oddly tense shadow. You crane your neck to look up at him, gulping down the thickness in your throat like it’s going to help you find any words to say to him.

“You see, if I’d have won, I’d have told you to never speak to that asshole Shane again,” He speaks slowly his voice deep and quiet.

You can’t bring yourself to move, too focused on the way his eyes seem to have darkened.

“I’d have told you that he shouldn’t be allowed to look at you, or touch you, or call you his princess,” He emphasises the last word so much so that it seems to hang between you as if there is something so unsaid about the word.

You stand up then, somehow gathering the force to do so, even under his gaze that seemed to freeze you in your spot. When you stand, your height only draws you to his shoulders at a push, your head still craning up towards him, the way his hair wraps around his temples. His eyes are still dark but their colour is just starting to pierce through now you can see them so closely.

“Why do you care so much about Shane?” You ask him, quieter than you had planned to speak, a smaller voice than you ever used around Rafe.

He looks between each of your eyes, like he’s analysing the features, looks down to your lips and then back up to your eyes, “I don’t.”

Before you can speak, Rafe brings a hand up to brush your hair back from your face. His fingertips graze your skin, drawing the hair back slowly and gently - a softer touch than you ever expected from him. His hand doesn’t make any move to disappear though, instead turning to rest against your jaw, his thumb at your chin. Rafe brushes the rough pad of his thumb over your lips, pressing a little stronger until your lips part around his finger. He instinctively clenches his jaw when you do so, his thumb dipping into your mouth as it grazes over your teeth.

“I don’t want him looking at you princess,” He says thickly, low and certain, before dragging his thumb away from you, leaving his hand lingering over your jaw.

It’s like a part of yourself comes back to you then, a self-assurance you were annoyed that he would ever let you lose, a stubbornness that was normally unwavering;

“I don’t think you get a say in that.”

You pull away from him, enough that it seems to break the tension in between. Like it drops five degrees in the room just from that. Your heart realises it needs to beat again. Rafe watches you, his eyes tracing your movements, this time with a hunger in them that you couldn’t quite place. You pick up your shirt from the back of the chair and pull it over your shoulders.

“I’m working tomorrow,” You state, like it’s normality amongst whatever the hell had just happened, “I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah, tomorrow,” Rafe drags a hand through his hair, oddly flustered beyond how you were so used to seeing him.

He watched as you leave, trying to convince himself that there wasn’t a desire to follow after you, convincing himself that his mind wasn’t running over a million possibilities of what he wanted to do to you - these possibilities now stretching beyond a hatred, and perhaps closer to a lust he hadn’t given into.

You hurry down the dock and across the garden like you’re running away, your hands gripping at the material of your shirt to pull it around you. Why was your heart racing? Why were you clenching your core? Why did your skin so feel strange without his touch? Why did you want more of him? You push the thoughts out, forcing the million questions away from you. He wasn’t thinking of you. Right? He just wanted a power that he thought he could have over everyone. Right?

But why had he looked at you like that?

———

Taglist:

[galexystern]

butterfly wings

chapter two; fall 1983

pairing; steve harrington/reader

rating; M

warnings; angst, pining, au - canon divergence, fucked up the timeline a bit

word count; 891

desc; you comfort and advise steve on his relationship.

a/n; sorry for the short chapter! but the next one is a biggie~

read on ao3 / series masterlist

When your sophomore year comes around, you're glad Nina found a good enough job to stay put. Hopefully this one sticks.

School starts in a whirlwind. Vickie, Jesse, Hailey, and you are all officially best friends. You get the lead in the fall play. Eddie still winks at you, just in a different part of the school. And Steve and Nancy break up.

"Wait, what?" You shout at Vickie, who has just told you the news.

She nods frantically. "Yeah! Apparently Steve thought Nancy was cheating on him with Jonathan Byers—the guy whose kid brother went missing?—and went crazy over it. He and his friends 'confronted' him and broke his camera. Well, that set Jonathan off and he and Steve got into a fistfight until Nancy showed up and put a stop to it. She told him off and that was it."

"Wow," you draw out; Jesse and Hailey echo you.

"So was she? Cheating on him?" Hailey is practically hanging on Vickie's words.

Vickie shakes her head wildly. "No! That's just it! She wasn't cheating on him, she was just helping him look for his brother. She felt bad since her friend Barbara went missing too. I think they just experienced the same thing and became close through it."

Jesse sighs. "I can't believe it."

"Me either," you say. "First Will and then Barbara. Not exactly the time for King Steve to go mad."

The three of them nod in agreement.

;

Later that day, you get home and head up to the roof, determined to enjoy the last dredges of summer. You find a surprise.

"Steve?"

Said surprise turns his head half-heartedly, looks at you blandly, and then turns back. He's sitting at the railing, letting his feet hang over the side through the bars. You walk over to him slowly. "Is it okay if I sit?"

He shrugs, which you take as a yes with some creative license, and join him. You two sit in silence for a while, letting the setting sun warm you for as long as it can. Once it disappears and the sky turns purple and blue and black as a bruise, you cross your arms against the chill.

Steve seems to notice and unexpectedly takes off his letterman jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.

"Thank you," you say, surprised again. He just shrugs again. "Are you okay?" You finally ask.

He doesn't reply for a few minutes. You're not sure he's going to answer at all, until you hear him say, hoarsely, "I fucked up."

You nod, looking at the sky for a minute. Then you turn your head back to him. "And?"

That startles him into looking at you. "What?"

"You fucked up, and...? So what?"

He huffs in frustration. "So it's over. And it's my fault."

You continue to stare at him. "And?"

Steve shakes his head. "I don't understand," he says angrily.

You exhale and take the chance to place your hand on top of his. His hands are still warm even in the cold night. "You fucked up. Alright, that sucks. But we all fuck up. It's not usually the end of the world." He raises an eyebrow. "You know, unless you're a world leader and some group of inept thugs somehow steal the nuclear launch codes." That gets you a half-smile. Emboldened, you continue. "We all fuck up. It's human nature. It's what you do after that matters."

"You mean...?"

"If you feel bad, you apologize. If you did something wrong, you try to make it right. If you hurt someone, you do better next time. You learn from the mistakes. So you don't do it again. And it might not be completely over, if you try to keep it going."

He lets your words digest and then understanding spreads across his features. It's pretty beautiful.

"Oh my—I get it. I have to go." He leaps to his feet but still stares at you. "Thank you," he says genuinely.

"You're welcome," you say with a smile. "Now go!"

He salutes you and races to the door. You call out, "Wait, your coat!" but he's already gone. You face the edge again and lean forward until your head is resting on a bar. His jacket envelops you in warmth and his scent. Closing your eyes, you wonder just what the fuck you're doing.

;

This time, the news is not a surprise.

"Guys!" Vickie is out of breath. "Steve and Nancy are back together!"

Jesse and Hailey freak, and you pretend to. "What happened?" Someone screams.

"So many things! First, he confronted Tommy and Carol about their terrible behavior and tried to get them to apologize to Nancy and Jonathan. They wouldn't take it. Then second, he cleans the 'Nancy is a whore' graffiti from the movie theater sign, all by himself! And then finally, he went to Nancy and Jonathan, apologized, and made up with Nancy!"

"She's a better woman than I," Jesse bemoans, shaking his head. "I would've kicked him to the curb."

"I don't know," Hailey says with a giggle. "I'd let him cozy back up."

You roll your eyes. "Hailey, that crush is so tired. I thought you liked Jack?"

"I still do," she insists. "But he's not Steve Harrington."

No one is, you think sadly, and picture the letterman jacket hanging in your closet.

chapter three

[the-writer-arcane]

the beginning of the end (day four)

PAIRING: ziggy berman x cit!gn!reader

SUMMARY: nurse lane isn’t around to help with ziggy’s burn, but luckily you are.

WARNINGS: N/A

WORDS: 1.2K

A/N: merry christmas or happy holidays!

series masterlist

The cabin is empty, the redhead discerns as she continues to call out for Nurse Lane. Her voice dying in her throat as she walks into the woman's office, an open book lying on the desk. Leather bound cover and all, whoever created this was clearing going for an antique vibe. Slowly, she turns the book towards her, gripping the edges as she begins to read.

"I don't know who you are, but I doubt Nurse Lane would appreciate you snooping," Your voice rings in her ears as you lean against the door frame. 

She spins on her heel to face you, a soft gasp leaving her mouth. "You scared the shit out of me." Nothing, just a blank stare from you as you push yourself away from the wooden frame. Glancing over her shoulder, you frown at the contents of the book. The Devil's Mark. "Hey, are you deaf or something?" Your attention snaps back to the girl in front of you.

"No, I'm just used to ignoring people."

The redhead raises an eyebrow, something like amusement playing in her eyes that she won't let show on her lips. "That's great, but uh, where's Nurse Lane? It's kind of urgent."

"So I heard, you could die any minute now." You watch as recognition registers on her face from the words she had called out earlier to a supposedly empty cabin. She opens her mouth, presumably to ask if you'd been lurking in the cabin before she got there, but you beat her to the punch. "No, I don't know where she is. Probably taking her break before the influx of campers that are no doubt coming."

"Well, at least I can say I tried," She shrugs, but doesn't move from her spot. Her eyes are wandering the cabin now. "Why would there be campers coming?"

"Well, it's day four of a shitty summer camp where kids can't seem to keep their hands to themselves. Either petty fights or fucking in a patch of poison ivy. Doesn't really matter, they'll need medical attention either way." You roll your eyes. "Not to mention the stupid Shadyside vs Sunnyvale shit that's always going on. I give it half an hour before someone gets seriously hurt."

This time, she does manage the smallest upturn of her lips. "Your calculations might be off on that one." She lifts her arm, revealing the angry patch of flesh that's darkened over time. "I got burned," she answers your unasked question.

"Shit, you okay?"

"Still standing, but Nick wanted me to make sure it wouldn't get, like, infected or anything."

You frown at the mention of Nick Goode before nodding slowly. "I can patch you up, might not be as good as Nurse Lane's, but I promise you'll still get a lollipop."

Full on smirk now, and you can't help the way your eyes fall to her lips. "Yeah, 'cause a stranger offering me candy isn't weird." She lowers her arm, wincing a bit as the wind resistance causes her burn to sting. "You promise you know how to use this stuff?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

She shoves her way past you, not bothering to say excuse me or allow you to lead the way, as she makes her way into the medical room. You catch a whiff of fresh air, and something warm as she moves. It takes you a minute to remember that you're supposed to be following her before you actually start moving. Practically jolting forward, as you realize you've been standing there way too long to be considered normal.

She's sitting on one of the cots as you enter, already holding her arm up and gently running her fingers over the burn mark. "Got a thing for pain, or do you just lack self control?" Your tone joking as you ask, making your way over to the medicine cabinet to grab a roll of bandages and some ointment.

"Neither," a pause. "Probably both, who knows what living in Shadyside gets you."

You sit on the cot across from her, humming softly in lieu of a response. Twisting the cap off, you gently squeeze some of the ointment on your finger before attempting to rub it on her burn. Attempt being the operative word, with only one hand she keeps moving and the ointment is smeared across her arm, the burn barely touched. "I'm starting to get the feeling you're not good at this."

"Well if you would keep your arm steady-"

She takes the tube from your hand, holding it out for you. Wordlessly, you stick out your finger for her to squeeze it on. "Do it yourself." She tilts her head to indicate her arm, and you use your now free hand to grab onto her bicep, the other one coming to rub the cream against her arm successfully this time. "Look at that, getting better already."

"Now, I just need to wrap your arm with the bandages so the cream can do its thing."

"Go ahead."

It takes a few moments in silence before you realize she's watching you, and the feeling, the knowing you have her attention so entirely is… too much. You clear your throat, hoping your voice doesn't crack as you speak. "So, I know you're a Shadysider, who's prone to accidents, and not great in the control department, but I still don't know your name."

"It's Ziggy. Ziggy Ber-"

"I just wanted to make sure you actually got help instead of writing it off as just another injury." Nick's eyes slide over to you before sliding back to Ziggy. He frowns at your close position, not noticing the bandages half wrapped around her arm, having dropped them. "But I can see you're fine here. You're good, right?"

"Yeah, Nick, she's fine."

He's full on glaring at you now. "She can answer for herself."

"Yeah, I can answer for myself." Ziggy says, drawing both you and Nick's attention to her. Against your better judgment your eyes are scanning her face in a manner you hope is subtle. You glance over to Nick out of the corner of your eyes, and you know the look in his eye, you've seen it before.

"Oh." They both look at you, and you swallow, trying to collect your thoughts. "Right, yeah." You nod, quickly, but you can't help but feel like your heart has slowed down considerably. Ziggy and Nick. You stand, leaving her arm only half bandaged before making your way towards the entrance, and consequently to Nick.

"Wait-" Ziggy starts, but you're already making up an excuse to get the hell out of there.

"Cindy- Cindy's probably looking for me, y'know? Probably needs help cleaning something. You- You know how to dress a wound, right Nick?"

Nick nods, but you barely see it cause you're already brushing past him. "Good, yeah, just wrap it up."

And you're gone.

Nick turns to look at where you ran off too. "What's their problem?"

Ziggy glances down at the bandage coming unwrapped. "I don't know, here, help me finish this?"

"Yeah, yeah of course."

It's only after the wound is properly dressed and she and Nick are beginning to walk out of the Nurse's cabin that she finally asks, "How the hell do they know my sister?"

"Oh, Y/N? Cindy's been training them to become a counselor."

She doesn't get a chance to ask anymore questions before she hears Cindy's voice calling her name, and while internally she groans, outwardly she rolls her eyes. Nick stifles a groan as he leaves her at the hands of yet another lecture.

Distantly, she notices that you're not with her sister like you said you'd be.

[faeriemarie]

This ask is your free pass to gush abt your drs :>

YIPPEE MY FAVORITE ASK EVER EVER EVER!!!!!

okay so my main two right now are actually my fame dr (ballerina ofc) and my doctor who dr.

in my ballerina dr, i’ve been getting into it so much recently because i remembered that im gonna be shifting when im 12 and not 22. meaning i’ll be sitting in my bedroom over the summer waiting for the anastasia cast list to come out while listening to belle and sebastian on my discman (probably). spoiler alert: i am cast as anya and i have the perfect summer working on it. im also starting cambridge in the fall and im so excited!! i’ve wanted to study art history forever and this is going to be the best experience of my life. i love twee as well and getting to be there as it develops is my dream life. i can go to bishop allen concerts and be tumblr famous. there will be gifsets of me!! oh god i can’t wait. this is honestly just scratching the surface of this dr. in uni im gonna meet my girls. erin alvarez and leni liu who are also extremely young students like me. i remain friends with them for the rest of my life. god how i miss them. plus, soon i’m also getting cast in my very first acting job as effy stonem in skins and that’s how i become famous (also starting my lifelong friendship with co-star hannah murray). oh AND im gonna get my first boyfriend too. i’m so obsessed with toby regbo and especially him in the movie mr nobody which is how we meet. im cast as teen anna and we are so awkward and stumble around each other. i love him. i know we have to break up because he’s not my main s/o but being with him is gonna be so fun. i hope we stay friends in the future. we’re gonna go to bookshops and cinemas together. we’re gonna kiss in the rain and just be super cliché because why not?!?! oops okay this is getting long

as for my doctor who dr, i’m super excited for that too. i’m on the ninth series rn and i fucking love peter capaldi’s doctor like he might actually be my favorite. i’m so in love with him and bro the sonic sunglasses are actually doing um… things to me. i also just wanna time travel. like i wanna visit so many places throughout history and i wanna be super awesome and cool. i wanna go to warhol’s factory and have him make a film about me and i wanna go to the beatles’ first performance on the ed sullivan show. i wanna meet princess diana and watch a shakespeare performance at the globe. i wanna be in love with the doctor while he pretends not to notice my starry-eyed glances and pushes his feelings down because he’s afraid of falling in love. this is my dr where literally anything can happen. in my cr i’m just a boring girl who just scrolls on tumblr all day but with the doctor i’m a genius who can get us out of any situation. i’m brave and strong and perfect.

okay that’s it and i’m done. was this too much? it was too much 😔

[fan-art-ic]

I still can't believe Rick did that to Percy that author really kicked the shit out of his oc not even letting him get a full school year of no war drama fucking his life over at age 16. Percy is only fucking 17! He would be learning about trig and failing to read a shakespeare classic in class, if he ever could be in class!!!!! I started this post to re write the hoo events let me re route

This actually got super long so ha! So glad mobile had read mores now

So what I think would have been great is if Rick really had to bring in a Roman camp and all that shit then I would have him START at the Roman camp! The first book should open with Leo, because he's already favored by Hera cuz she babysat him, having a demigod dream around the last day and day after of the titan war, because we are going to start RIGHT AFTER

Leo, however, is missing his memories and is on a bus with Piper, who is a daughter of VENUS (isn't the whole thing with, um not Remus and Romulus but Adonis right? He was a founder of Rome right and a son of Venus? It just works) and the bus is attacked by monsters. Hedge is a faun, he's Roman, and basically calls for back-up, the closest Roman patrol shows up but not before Leo has to fight monsters off himself. He kills one dramatically and Jason is the first/last face he sees

In this, Jason is not Praetor. I'd like to imagine he managed to beg off being made Praetor until he turns 16 next year, because the idea made him want to bite people and he did bite Octavian and Reyna. Reyna, in my eyes, is like 17 going on 18 while Jason is 15 going on 16. Jason has an oblivious crush on her and she likes him as a faithful companion, like if her metal dogs could give tactic strategy feedback and make her laugh with snitty comments. Much more student who is a black belt but not a teacher and then a student who's a brown belt. I don't know back on track that's why Jason is on border patrol and not doing boring Praetor things

Also that nicely sets Jason up to go through the war and come out the other side as the Praetor so he might actually enjoy it this time

Back from that commercial break, the first book would basically be the quest from the lost hero but with changes to suit the divergences I've made but still mainly following that plot. They return to Camp Jupiter and celebrate and Leo finds Bunker Nine, hidden in the San Franciscan hills. I remember reading something about Rome loving Vulcan but could totally be mistaken, but that all would gel really well. On Pipers side of things, Tristan has moved into New Rome after Enceladus concussed him so hard he is blind so the Mist isn't bothering his vision. It's really hard because her father just got horribly injured, but now can be with her more often and not do stupid films, of course he wants to return to Hollywood so it's a lot of tense non arguments and treasured quality time

Book 2 would then open with Percy, the entire book is a classic fully him book like the og series. Something like: Look I don't want to waste my time or yours, we both got plenty to do. You know everything since last summer back. The more recent stuff, this past school year was okay! I got put into a couple of remedial classes, and had to deal with plenty of remedial monsters, but overall August to May? No big problems. Even arriving early back to camp had been no problem. I did it to help all the other counselors and Chiron get camp ready to shift from half-gear/winter mode to full gear/summer mode with easily quintuple the campers ready to show up. As the only Poseidon camper and the living hero of Olympus' everlasting ass, I probably could have gotten away with not helping. Annabeth asked me to, so it was a no brainer. June though? Oh boy."

And in JUNE they get Grover bringing back two demi-gods (usually he's busy being a teenage satyr equivalent lord of the wild [HE IS 28 IN TLT RIGHT BUT THATS SUPPOSED TO BE EQUIVALENT TO A HUMAN 12! HE STILL SO YOUNG]) but he ran into these two and uhuuhhhhh needed to bring them right away. And it's Frank and Hazel!!! I love Frank but the fact that he comes out a somewhat legible and not totally weird character is a miracle. He is the son of a minor god, who didn't want him going to CHB because of the shit conditions for non Olympian kids but then Frank somehow befriended a monster kid but then the monster parents tried to eat him and now that he knows his scent has gotten stronger and just bc demigods can't use phone doesn't mean monsters can't they can text their cousins and be like hey fresh meat coming your way. They probably love playing mobile video games and doing crypto trading. Anyways

On the run, he runs into Hazel. She is our lost Roman! Hera took her time with Leo and unfortunately did a rush job with Hazel. She got memory wiped, but Hera ran out of time to set up her arrival to CHB properly, and just drops her in Frank's path. (Tangent: With Frank and Hazel, I've made my feelings pretty clear, canon ages can't date, at least not till they're in their 20s. Again, like that's not something I have a problem with, bc 3 years isn't enough to really view that younger kid as baby comparatively the age just doesn't match up till their 20s. but.......) given they are demigods, I would space out their relationship the full five years to the end of the second series, so she's 18 at least.

That's right, FIVE YEARS. don't try to fucking do all that shit in one year!!!!! You're saying Gaia is this huge big bad but in a span of ONE year where no one actually fights HER she doesn't seem nearly as good a villain as Kronos! He had the pizzazz!!! The villainous razzle dazzle!!!! Because he was given time (ha...ha). I expect at LEAST as much for a BIGGER BAD. It just fucks with the pacing.

Anyway! Hazel has always had dreams and a connection to the Earth, so she's enjoying the newly constructed Hades cabin (where Nico is really fucking confused but really happy?) And also having terrible nightmares and sometimes sneaking off into the rockiest area of the woods like it's in a stream but huge boulders like st peters village creek and she sneaks off there sometimes but that's only after sleepwalking there after the dreams. She is really worried about this possible...familiar.....danger and protective of her new family so she goes back out there repeatedly to think and try to meditate

Percy, both really enjoying befriending Hazel but also somehow the only one finding her suspicious, is working himself into a tizzy because you know how he is with friends and with Silena's death and everyone else's anniversary coming close he has. A lot on his mind. So one night he's out at the wider part of the creek practicing his 'waterbending' and generally being upset, and he does have a sense for Earth so being so close he can feel the small tremors Hazel is putting put and he tracks her upstream

Confrontation time

Percy is already freaked out and Hazel is already in a weird place so she thinks he's a monster through her earth sense, yes she can have that she deserves it, so with her eyes closed she send a little rock spike at him out of fear, which he thinks is her attacking, so he fights back, Hazel comes to/opens her eyes and gets frightened and accidentally entombs Percy. She's able to bring him back up after a second, but oh man that second was possibly the single scariest second ever completely pressed in by dirt on all sides. Suffice to say he gets more fighty bc that's who Percy is, but Hazel manages to freeze his foot and explain herself and Percy calms down pretty well. Really fucking miffed and still has shivers running down his spine every heartbeat, but he's a reasonable guy, a nice dude. He has also been having visions, and between the two of them, figure that something is going to attack this other camp that exists, somewhere on the West Coast, and by a Giant and it's army

Phew! End scene, sheesh. Can you imagine how fucking long this would be if I actually wrote it out? Christ in hell.

They go to sleep! As all good demigods should at Night. The next day, Percy and Nico shove their tables together and Annabeth crouched in as does Frank, because his parents cabin hasn't specifically been done up yet. Oh hm maybe he could have his mortal soldier (booooo) mom and Nike? Doesn't matter, he still likes archery and still eventually figures out his shapeshifter shit. His candle, I think I want that honestly would work better as like, if Frank chose to save someone and took their punishment and he was given that candle. Or something. So at brunch they figure out the pieces, and then when Chiron comes over they think he's going to reprimand their shitty pavilion tableware manners, but nope he just says Rachel needs to see them in her cave

NOW Rachel gets to make a nice little debut with her cave. I honestly. Honestly. Honestly can't remember how it went it tlh if they went to her cave or the big house. Ik Jason went to the big house at some point but it's not relevant to the current topic. Anyways I get to spend an ungodly amount of time waxing about a the artsy fartsy/hippydippy sacred oracle cave of a teenage billionaire heiress which I don't care if there's a kind of canonical description this is my Rachel's cave now. So that would be like, at least half the chapter, the other half is her giving the prophecy after winning at just dance 3.

Anyways then they have a prophecy so they are sanctioned to go to find new Rome! Given the dreams, Nico Hazel and Percy go on the quest. Originally it was going to be Frank but "There's no way I'm letting you go off on another quest with my sister without making sure she's safe myself". Oof, sometimes I understand what writers mean when they say the characters have their own voice sometimes. So whenever they iris message to camp, Frank and Annabeth will be (not) enjoying figuring out his demigod abilities and just generally Frank gets to enjoy camp a little (but barely because he's very worried about his camp crossing buddy being out there without him, despite being protected by two mega powerful demi gods and being pretty strong herself, he still wishes he could message her every day, but it's not practical. Only when the questers can afford to.)

Now in New Rome: Leo, flames, Jason, wind, Percy, with a real big cool boat, they honestly make short work of the whole Alaska situation. That's more of a side thing that Percy signs himself up to do. I think they get incredibly weird in the way a bunch of future openly bisexual men would as traumatized super powered teenagers with a duty and repression around other teen like them who are also hot. NOTHING really happens, Percy is SOLIDLY dating Annabeth at the time, and Jason is too Roman and Leo is too repressed. But yknow. Solidly gay lockeroom vibes like if any of then ever saw that one id magazine of the jock and skater dude their minds would shut down for at LEAST 2 meals worth of time. But yeah they just have a fun jaunty time freeing Thanatos.

Back to Percy, he is enjoying seeing Nico come out of his shell, but also Nico is acting strangely too, but in a completely different way then Hazel. One is entangled in something dangerous, while the other is withholding something dangerous. It's driving Percy batty because after getting paranoid about Hazel earlier he doesn't want to say or push anything, and Nico is his little brother, and Hazel is his little sister, so this is practically a family road trip as far as he is concerned (he hopes) (desperately) (trying to distract from the alternative). Percy doesn't witness this, but at some point Nico comes out to Hazel and reveals his crush on him, and Percy just picks up on "something" being different. Obligatory questers send off at the Jackson household, filled with cookies and great parenting. Really a good way to lower everyone's guard to all the bullshit about to hit their ass. At this point, they are just trying to get cross country, and trying to link up with the Romans and warn them. They arrive on the same day Leo completes the Argo and Octavian butchers, like, 30 build-a-bears. Special edition ones too. Nico, at this point, has left because Hazel is pissed. She eventually remembered Nico at Camp Jupiter and there's a whole thing about that (fun little throw in about Norse and Egyptian from Percy's experiences in the ensuing conversation) so soon as they arrive safely to New Rom, he leaves immediately back to Camp Half Blood, reports, and, I dislike Nico going to Tartarus and getting captured so for right now he has been locked in his room by Hades for mentioning even doing that and he is a having a gay fume

Back in Rome, Hazel is recalling her life there, she had been there for several years, she had a few friends, and Reyna had begun to mentor her on the horse before Hera kidnapped her. As much as she loved CHB, she had never expected anything else and had put work in to feel at home among the golden hills of New Rome.

Okay also while I'm thinking of it. The fact that older Romans don't serve in the army but all the trick or treaters do? Fucking lunacy. But I want to worldbuild on this bullshit before I yank it out: what if the divinity in a demigod is strongest the younger they are, the closer their share of divinity is to the god. this is how you can get a baby Percy killing a snake in his cradle. But usually this means that a demigods peak years is 5-18, instead of a mortals 18-30. Like, of course just because they get older doesn't mean their power completely fade or anything, and of course in examples of extremely powerful demigods no one knows exactly, but, just spitballing, that's why so many monsters come after the kids, when imo they should be stronger when they are adults. So they are just less tasty as they grow through whatever divinity they were given, like expired jerky instead of filet mignon. So the 15 year old demigod serving in New rome's army is going to be to an aged out demigod of the same parent what Percy is to usual demigods. Just that much more in tune. The alternative is totally keelhauling the system and installing adults everywhere but I'm disinclined to that option

So Annabeth and Frank are in CHB, Hazel and Reyna are in New Rome, Jason Leo and Percy are in Alaska, and Nico is MIA at the moment. At this point, the prophecy of 7 is given by Rachel and after picking up Hazel, the Argo swings back to Long Island and then onto Greece.

Nico pops back up in New Rome, with warnings and looking to apologize to Hazel, but everyone is over the Atlantic. He accidentally ropes himself in to helping Reyna as Octavian is getting unruly. I think my Octavian is a total bastard but he isn't conspiring to get Rome and Greece to fight he is genuinely fucking concerned about them fighting and is acting out

I don't get why Annabeth had to get the Athena Parthenos at the exact same moment the whole Gaia is awakening it seems very stupid of Athena, so unless I'm forgetting something this is my made up reason: Athena gives Annabeth the OPTION of undertaking it at the same time or, if everyone survives, doing it later. It would be best to do it now though because she will already be in the Ancient Lands and then if Annabeth is able to recover the Parthenos it will allow Athena to regain complete control over her Minerva form and then, she SAYS to Annabeth, she would be able to help the questers since she won't be spread in two different directions. THAT is what convinces Annabeth to try and find it because Athena's aid would be invaluable for the rest of the quest

Then, when Annabeth and Percy fall into Tartarus and the Parthenos is recovered, Athena is able to manifest in front of the 7 (five). She is expecting to congratulate her daughter and bestow her blessing upon her and give everyone else a little boon, but then no Annabeth. This actually really pisses her off, and when she notices Percy is gone too and asks and they say he DELIBERATLY went in after Annabeth, well this helps boost the worthiness of the sea spawn in Athena's eyes, although this totally fucks everything up bc those two are basically the power players of the 7.

I'm kind of wishy washy on the minutiae of the of the house of hades, I honestly only gave a shit about the 411 in tartarus so no big change ups for the 5 just generally their shit goes easier with Athenas help

Annabeth and Percy are going through it of course. My personal theory is that the rivers of the underworld mess with peoples mortal souls and bodies when people interact with them. the cocytus leaves a more lasting mark on their psyches, and the phlegethon actually slowly eats at both of their mortality. If a normal person tried to drink from it, their human soul would wither away (like peeing on a flower), but with their divine side much more durable, both Percy and Annabeth's souls are growing unbalanced. Percy even more so, as I think when the Styx blessed him it burned away all but that anchor of mortality, and then when the Little Tiber washed away the blessing (which is BULLLLLLLLLLLSHIIIIIIIIIIIIIT) his mortal soul is already spread thin and that's why when they get to Akhyls, he is able to crack past his mortal barrier and develop his powers in ways he shouldn't be ABLE to. MY Annabeth, also, doesn't have that shitty reaction to Percy SAVING them. Her mortal soul is boiling and releasing steam vapors it will never get back, so her mind has both never been more tortured but also never been clearer and faster in her life. She is able to get Percy to back off, but just so she can manipulate Akhyls properly and get her to actually help them with Percy as the knife to the throat. In/After Tartarus Annabeth is very much the cleaning/sharpening/and polish to Percy's sword edge.

Annabeth also messes with Bob/Iapetus, poking at his memories and paving the way for him to remember Percy, but doing it in a way so that Iapetus which actually like them by the time he remembers. This is mainly to show off Annabeth being different from her usual self, to have a Percy pov of him being uneasy of Annabeths ability to turn someone around and re-arrange their thinking with just some conversation. This is also because I want Small Bob to go up to the surface and be her big murder cat and if Iapetus genuinely liked her I can see him giving them the cat monster as a token of good faith and fRiEnDsHiP but it ends up being something that gives Annabeth part of her humanity back because she realizes the real impact she had on him and now she has a monster pet to take care of just like her boyfriend (this set up parallels very nicely I'm loving this now)

The Blood of Olympus would probably end up being REALLY different just because the canon book sucks so hard. And I think I'd make a plot point of Zeus breaking the Styx promise to free Calypso, I'd have it become that all of this is actually his fault because by not following the promise the consequences were Gaia waking up enough for all this to even happen. Actually this would set up nicely a next series of dethroned Zeus look at how easy that all falls together fuck I love this idea. It would take so long to write though maybe after I retire I could write it. Also how stupid is it for the gods to work with their own kid against the literal BANE of their existence? Fucking switch up the teams!!! It doesn't make any sense to me and then you could get some really interesting fight scenes and dynamics like I would have it so Percy ends up fight alongside Athena and Annabeth alongside Ares, Jason with Poseidon and Hazel with Zeus, Frank with Hades more on and so on

For that last paragraph I wanted to elaborate so I looked up a list of Greek mytho giants, but it had so much more fun info then I was expecting and has lead me to realize that the defeat of the giants should be a collaborative effort between both the Roman and Greek camps and the gods that would truly be the best way to tie up the huge finale of evil bosses, would free up some of the huge hitters to actually fight Gaia directly, and would be a fucking great fight finale that would unite both camps under one banner of the gods and OOOOH THIS is so smart my brain is shaking like a chihuahua

And then yeah! Series wrapped. Take that Rick, longer time frame, more drama, more battles, and doesn't clumsily fumble everyone's character

If you have read this far I am kissing your cheeks and hugging you thanks for having fun with me!!!!

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

2, 14, 23, 25? <3

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

oh honestly im mostly looking forward to being done with writing rn hfjhjg ive been doing nothing but thasmissy for 2 months straight at this point and i need to finish like 2 more scenes. so i suppose the technobabble im doing in one of those scenes bc it's really fun to find words to put in it. even though it takes forever. and then i wanna take a little break. ive still got a series of like weird sex fics somewhere on the backburner i might go do that (it's like, 13/tardis, yaz getting off to gallifreyan anatomy textbooks, yaz with the hologram in 13x5, and another one i cant remember rn, oh yeah something with the robot master and shalka doctor, but i cant write them so idk. i think it would be fun to write robot sex though)

14. At what point in writing do you come up with a title?

either when i hit post and ao3 tells me i forgot the title (bad titles). or else it just ✨Comes To Me✨ at some point during writing (better titles). not the question but these are my favourite titles: kerblam it!, wondering about the perspective of the person who confuses interbellum with no man’s land, auto-tromperie à deux, or: the double-slit experiment, and the thasmissy one which will be called playing doctor <3

23. What’s the story idea you’ve had in your head for the longest?

s12 fic where yaz gets basically seduced by the master because the master is willing to give her answers the doctor wont. she finds the doctor's phone and they start texting. they both find something in each other that the doctor is unable to give them. the doctor when she finds out is So Mad. shes like hes dangerous!!!!1! but theres this possessive undertone you know? ive had scenes of that on my computer since like summer 2020. it's never gonna get finished but thats okay because i think most of what i thought was interesting about that fic i incorporated into thasmissy in some way. also i think it ended by yaz getting killed by a cyberman and the doctor beating the master to death for it so fkjghjkghgfjh too sad to finish tbh. it wasnt even the master's fault it was both their faults she was angry at herself so she killed him. and then sat with him until he regenerated. while yaz i think, stood there as a cyberman. anyway! fucked up! not my style

25. What part of writing is the most fun?

when im writing some weird gross visceral time stuff and looking in thesauruses and going on etymology dives and finding fun connections between words that i can use to make more subtext. and making up new ways to use words and sentences so i can make them hold more connections. increase the meaning/word ratio you know? thats the most fun

okay bonus found that fic. i had 2000 words. heres how it starts:

It starts with dying.

An endless dark. Without direction or sound or exit. Where air isn’t air and she doesn’t know how she’s still breathing. Where she can’t be alive because she can’t feel her heart beating.

“Okay, PC Khan. Nothing to worry about.”

It starts with dying.

It doesn’t end with it.

The Doctor pulls her out.

Its warm in australia. The heat crowds around her when she steps out of the glass cage, lapping at her hands, her face, curious, tentative, playful.

A Soft grip on her arms guides her to a chair, to reality, to being alive.

Someone presses a cup of tea into her hands. Large brown concerned eyes ask her if she's hurt.

She later learns his name is o. She later learns it isnt.

and this is how it ends:

His eyes switch to her as soon as he realises what this result of their actions is. Eyes big and hungry, apprehensive on the edges, mouth twitching but never reching a grin. Both stock still her eyes are still on the cyberman. One breath. Two breaths.

His eyes widen slightly when her attention shifts to him. Eyes dark and pushed too far like the chasm beyond the cliff. When she steps forward theres no delay in his step back.

Silence as the only witness of the last two children of gallifrey. The physical sounds of a body breaking and abody being broken.

Sound of breath and fists and one scream when she breaks his arm.

When she stumbles off of him, sitting where she lands, stopping moving further rather than sitting, silence still her only witness, he hasnt moved in a while, hasnt made a sound in a while. She watches until he starts glowing. Then she gets up and and without looking back walks away.

She finds the cyberman who was yasmin khan and says with a voice that is the oppoiste of what her hands just did, tender and regretful and soft, "yaz" because they were friends. And because no other words she will ever string together will be enough to make okay what she did to her. But the words press to her lips anyway. sorry doesnt change what she did. Sorry would be an insult.

"Your family will know"

Im sorry

"You wont be forgotten"

Im sorry

"You deserved better than you got"

Than i did to you. Im sorry

"Thank you yaz."

Im sorry

"Goodbye"

Im sorry

"And im sorry"

She zaps her sonic and the cyberman falls.

[frankenhookersmonster]

ʟᴏᴠᴇʙᴜɢ - ᴇɪɢʜᴛ, "ᴘᴏʀᴄᴇʟᴀɪɴ"

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ - 18+ ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ, ᴅʙꜰ!ꜰʀᴀɴᴋ x ᴀꜰᴀʙ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀɢᴇ ɢᴀᴘ (ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ᴛᴡᴏ, ꜰʀᴀɴᴋ ɪꜱ ꜰᴏʀᴛʏ ꜰɪᴠᴇ), ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ, ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ꜱɪᴢᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ʟᴏᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴅʀɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀᴜɢ ᴜꜱᴇ, ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ, ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ - 2.6ᴋ

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

a/n - guys, this is gonna be the last lovebug update for a second. I’m gonna take a break from the series for the week at least, but I’m gonna post a one shot or two for the time being. that being said, requests for one shots and headcannons are open - send me some stuff!

on top of that: there’s a new way to be added to the taglist! use this link if you want to be added to the lovebug taglist or anything else I might cook up :)

Even with the air mattress you had insisted on, sleeping was proving to be difficult. It was almost too quiet, the smallest movement of a branch would make you jump in your covers. You were freezing, despite the heat of the day before you found yourself shivering. 

You were the first to head off to bed, it was around midnight but after your long day of avoiding Frank and then him giving you one of the best orgasms of your life you were a bit tired. But once you hit the pillow you could only sleep in short intervals. You heard your father and Lena open their tent an hour or so after you had tucked yourself in, but now it was a little after two and you could still hear the fire cracking outside. 

You sat up, the little warmth you did have from your blankets immediately leaving your body. You rummaged around the dark tent for your phone, using its flashlight to find some sneakers you couldn’t be bothered to tie up. 

Before opening the tent, you wrapped yourself in a blanket. It was sherpa, some of the soft pils bunched together from the washer and dryer. It was a light blue, slightly graying from love it had gotten over the years. It wrapped over your hooded head, you hadn’t taken off Frank’s hoodie since this afternoon. You wore emerald green sweatpants that were tucked into some fluffy socks. 

When you opened the tent, however, you felt underdressed. Frank was sat on a camping chair in front of the fire, poking it with some stick he found. He was wearing something similar to you, sweatpants and a hoodie, though over his he wore a tan canvas jacket lined with flannel. He lit up when he saw you, chuckling at your attire. 

“Cold?” He asked as you shuffled his way, plopping down in your own chair. He continued to poke at the fire, though his eyes were fixed on you. You nodded, though the fire was already starting to warm you. 

“Can’t sleep.” You admitted through chattering teeth. You both were quiet for a moment, staring at the fire. There was tension, though you couldn’t quite place its origin. Was it you two wanting to have a normal conversation? Or was it you wanting to fuck each other? 

After you two had returned from the store earlier, you searched through your bags for any condoms you might have left behind. You wanted Frank, but he had made it clear that he wasn’t going to have sex with you without a condom. You had the night to get through, and then another day of hot summer weather before taking down the tents and driving all the way home, likely not getting there until late into the night. By then you’d be exhausted, and you had plans with Olivia for the following day, and by then who knows how Frank would feel about fucking you? 

Your window of opportunity was closing, but you had come up empty when you looked for any sort of protection. You debated rummaging through your dad’s things, though you knew he’d notice if you took a condom of his. You were at a loss. Frustrated, you stood up. 

“I’m going on a walk.” You stated simply, still looking into Frank's eyes. You weren’t moving your feet, maybe waiting for him to say something, maybe waiting for him to follow you. He looked back at you, amused. 

“Okay.” He licked his lips, leaning back into his chair. He ran a hand through his hair, dragging it over his beard. 

“Do you need me to come with you?” The wording made you boil. No, you didn’t need him to come with you. You were perfectly fine walking through the woods on your own, even if the silence was deafening and the thought of something being out there, as silly as it may be, was prominent in your mind. If he had used ‘want’ you would have happily said yes, maybe even getting finger fucked along the way. You thought for a moment that maybe it was because you did need him, but you knew that wasn’t true. Needy for him, sure, but you didn’t need him by any means. 

Your hands gripped the blanket harder, lips pressing together. Frank took that as a sign to stand up, a sigh escaping him. You began walking to nowhere in particular, hugging yourself tightly. Frank caught up and walked beside you, your sides brushing every so often. You wanted to reach out and hold his hand, though you decided against it. 

It was still silent, the only noise coming from your feet digging into the dirt. Chills were still running down your spine when a loud bark came from behind you. It shot through the woods like a sonic boom, amplified by previous silence. You jumped, turning around and letting out an involuntary squeal. You hid in your blanket, heart racing a million miles a minute. Frank’s warm hands covered your shoulders from behind, squeezing them. 

“You alright?” He leaned his head down to your ear, speaking loud enough for just you to hear. You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat while Frank kissed the top of your head, spinning you around to continue your walk. 

You grabbed his arm then, wrapping yourself around him fully. You could almost hear him smiling, hands in his pockets and he continued a steady pace down the dirt road. 

You were headed to the water again, completely by accident. Frank led you down the path to the beach, you grip on him loosening a bit though your hand still held his forearm. The beach was completely empty, the only light coming from the stars and moon reflecting on the water. You two walked by the shore, stepping on the damp sand. You looked up at Frank and studied his profile, each hair in his bearch, the curves of his nose. You stopped walking, letting go of your hold on him. Frank turned to you, frowning. 

“Wanna sit?” You asked, already placing your blanket a little bit up the beach. It was gonna be covered in sand you’d never be able to get out, but you didn’t really care. You plopped down, Frank crouching beside you. He sat back, propped up on his arms and legs stuck out in front of him. You pulled your legs into your chest, hugging yourself. 

“Are you going to forget about me when we go back home?” The words shocked you as they came out of your mouth, Frank’s face seemed just as confused as yours. 

“Do we just go back to normal?” You continued, curling into Frank’s hoodie as much as possible. Frank reached out and dragged you towards him, his arm resting over your shoulders. 

“Why would I do that?” His hand ran up your bicep, your legs escaped your grasp and landed over Frank’s. You shrugged, you weren’t even sure why you told him about your feelings, you knew he’d just reassure you. 

Frank kissed you, it was gentle at first. He held your face in his hands, pressing himself deeper into your lips. They moved together like a synchronized dance, you moved your arms to wrap around his neck and pulled your legs off of Frank to kneel next to him. He groaned against your lips, your hips rolling against nothing. 

You wanted to take Frank in your mouth, feel him pulsated on your tongue and his cum shoot into your mouth. You wanted him to pull at your hair, shove you down on his cock and force it down your throat if he had to. You could tell he wanted it too, the growing bulge in his sweatpants saying enough to you. You reached down, grabbing his dick and squeezing as you deepened your kiss. Frank pulled away, still holding your cheeks in his palms. 

“Y/n, I have something for you.” He licked his lips before reaching into his jacket pocket. You sat eagerly, trying to catch your breath. Frank pulled out a small blue package, a grin from ear to ear making his eyes crease. 

A condom. 

Your heart stopped, eyes darting Frank and the little piece of foil. You leapt at him, lips attaching and moving together quickly before breaking as you kissed up his face while he laughed. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” He reassured you, though you simply shot him a frown before returning to his lips. 

“Where-” You started, his mouth barely letting you get the words out. 

“Found it in the console after we got back to the campsite. Felt like a real dumbass ‘cause I didn’t think of it earlier.” He peeled his jacket off, before he could even get it off of his arms you were pulling his hoodie and tee shirt, taking them off at the same time. 

You grabbed your own hoodie, revealing your bare chest. Your nipples hardened in the cold air, though you could barely focus on how freezing you were when Frank was tugging at your sweatpants. 

Frank slowed his movements once your pants were gone, gently pulling your panties down your leg. They were damp, Frank held them in his fist before dropping over in the pile where his coat sat. He looked over your body, kissing bits and pieces. 

“Gotta warm you up, alright?” A hand rubbed circles on your inner thigh while you nodded, internally begging for him to touch you. He granted your wish, dipping a finger into you. He pumped slowly, adding a second finger and twisting them up to get a moan out of you. 

They were thick, stretching you the perfect amount. His thumb toyed with your clit, your back arched as you whined into the cold air. It didn’t take Frank long to have your walls hugging him, with the curling of his fingers as his ruthlessness. 

He pulled them out of you, licking them clean before reaching for the condom. You sat up, watching him rid himself of his sweatpants and boxers. 

Frank was big. It made your jaw drop a bit, the mere size of his hard cock was enough to make you nervous again. It was thick, too, large veins sure to make you twitch. You hadn’t had sex with someone, other than Frank, in a while. Even then, you hadn’t had a partner that compared to Frank, apart from the size he was always cautious with you. Maybe it was because he was older, or maybe it was because he was more experienced than you, but being with Frank made you feel safe. He watched as you stared, he could feel your eyes popping out of your head. 

“You alright?” Frank began rolling the condom over his dick as you nodded, though you both knew you were lying. He reached a hand out to your chin to meet your eyes, just reading your face for a moment. He studied the sweat beginning to bead down your face, stroking your cheek. It was tense, you both knew there was something on your mind, though whether it would be you or him to break the silence would be anyone’s guess. It was just the two of you, naked as the day you were born, you in Frank’s rough hands. Campsites were just past the thick swell of trees though you had never felt more alone. 

“Is it gonna fit?” You squeaked out, breaking the eye contact you had been making. Frank smiled, you could tell he was trying to hold back laughter though it still made your cheeks flush. 

“It’ll fit, sweetheart. We’ll make it fit.” Frank kissed your forehead, laying you back down onto your sand coated blanket. You parted your legs, Frank’s eyes completely zoned in on your soaking pussy. His eyes were lit up, pupils dilated and mouth practically salivating. 

He stroked himself, leaning down to you to plant another kiss on your lips. He pushed his head in, coaxing a moan from deep in your stomach. Frank sucked on your neck, shoving himself into you slowly. He was attempting to be as gentle as possible, but the sheer size of him was forcing cries out of you, a tear slipping down your cheek. Frank looked at you, wiping the tear from your cheek. 

“Hey, hey, hey don’t cry. Is it too much? We can stop.” You could feel Frank started to pull out below you, but you grabbed his bicep and squeezed him. 

“No, no I’m good. Please keep going, please.” You begged, bucking your hips a bit against him despite the pain. Frank nodded though you could tell he was hesitant, slowly pushing himself deeper into your core. You bit down on Frank’s shoulder, trying to hold back your whines. It wasn’t doing much, you were still making muffled moans through his skin. Frank bottomed out, hovering over you as you removed your teeth from him. 

“Let’s stay like this for a second, yeah?” He brushed your sweat soaked hair behind your ear. You mumbled in agreement, whimpering when you could feel his cock twitch every so often. He began kissing your body, sucking on your jawline, probably hoping to distract you from the pain he was giving you. The pain from him turned to pleasure, you adjusted to Frank’s size slowly. You didn’t doubt that you’d be sore in the morning, but you didn’t mind. 

“Frank, c-can you start moving please?” You stuttered out, looking at Frank as he removed his lips from your shoulders. 

“Okay, yeah. Let me know if you need me to stop, alright?” You nodded as Frank began to slowly thrust into you. It was a grueling pace, his hips snapping to you lazily. Every thrust was gentle, or as gentle as a thrust could be. With every movement Frank made you would let out a moan, you started to bite on your lip to stop yourself, though Frank insisted you continue. 

“I wanna hear you, baby.” He groaned as he spoke. You had hoped the sex was as good for Frank as it was for you, but Frank was vocal with his pleasure. “So tight, sweetheart, so good for me.”

“Faster, Frank!” You whined, your back arching underneath the large man. He obliged, speeding up his pace. It was a slow incline, but soon enough Frank was pounding into you. As you continued to adjust to Frank’s cock, your hips started to meet him halfway and your hands made their way to his hair to give it a good tug. Though his thrusts were gentle and soft at first, Frank quickly let go and snapped his hips into yours, pumping himself in and out of your arousal soaked hole. The only sounds through the whole beach were you and Frank’s moans and praises, the smack of his skin hitting yours and the cold water rolling onto the sand. 

“Gonna cum, aren’t ya’?” Frank spoke, a little out of breath, though he already knew how close you were without even asking. You were hugging his cock, his thrusts were becoming sloppier and your cries were getting louder and louder. 

“Cum on my cock, angel. Milk me dry sweetheart.” He thrusted faster, his words barely heard through your moans. You came, your body convulsing as Frank continued to fuck you with the same force, still chasing his own high. Frank finished, nearly completely collapsing on top of you. The two of you were breathing so heavy you thought one of your lungs would collapse in. 

“So good, you were so fucking good.” He mumbled praises into your ear before pulling himself out of you slowly. You groaned as he laid on his back to your side, pulling you into his chest. You caught your breath, kissing Frank’s pecs as he rubbed your back. You could hear squirrels running through the thick forest, the wind rustling the leaves. 

“Thank you, Frank.” It was the first clear thing you had said since Frank started fucking you. His heart was racing, you could feel it laying on his chest. 

“Anytime.”

taglist - click here to be added!: @monimickell @lunarxeclipse @capbrie @iwantaharrystylesalbum @diksy1112 @kateaesthetic @kittenhawkk @aerynxanimation @glllllow @witchcraft-osteology @rosie-16​ @lucyyy-16 @bajex @merleisapartygod @rafesbabe @bxxbxy @babysian777 @quackson03 @kaqua @wheresmybells @domepleaselol​ @gloryekaterina​ @lorosette​

[angelasscribbles]

Star Crossed Chapter 10: Reconnection

 Series: Star Crossed

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Drake (mostly), Riley x Liam (sort of), Liam x ?

Rating: NSFW

Warnings: Lemons 🍋🍋🍋

Word Count: 2,067

Summary: Drake gets a lead on Riley's whereabouts. Liam gets a late night visitor.

My other stuff: Master List.

Monterisso….

“Wait!”

The gravel crunched under his feet as Drake stopped in the middle of the extra wide, white marble driveway. He turned to watch the young man jogging to close the distance between them. He was roughly six foot tall, with a slim athletic build. His short cropped hair was a few shades lighter than Riley’s, but the shape of his forehead and the point of his chin were almost identical.

“Ryder?” Drake guessed correctly. He vaguely remembered him from the wedding.

“Yeah. Sorry about my parents. They can be….less than helpful.”

“I don’t think they know anything.”

“They wouldn’t!” Ryder laughed, “My sister would never tell them anything. None of us would. Nothing important anyway.”

“What about you?” Drake asked.

He had tried tracking her through credit card purchases, but she hadn’t made any since leaving the palace. She must have had the foresight to take cash. Likewise, her GPS enabled car had been left at the train station.

“What about me?” Ryder responded.

“Would she tell you?” He was very sure she would.

Ryder fixed Drake with a level look, “She might. But if I had heard from her, I wouldn’t admit that to just anyone.”

“I’m not just anyone.”

“No, I don’t think you are. You’re him, aren’t you?”

“Him, who?”

“The guy. The one she met the night before the wedding.”

“She told you about that?”

Ryder nodded, “We tell each other pretty much everything.”

“So where is she?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone! But…”

“But?”

“I don’t think she meant you! She didn’t expect you to come looking for her. Aren’t you supposed to be in Rivala?”

“Yeah, well, I got reassigned.”

Ryder’s eyebrows shot up, “You’re here on behalf of the king?”

“Yes and no.” Drake replied carefully.

“Could you elaborate on that?”

“I mean….yes, Liam had me reassigned to the royal guard because he needed someone he could trust to do this discreetly and if we’re being honest, likely because he knew I’m the one person she won’t run away from. But none of that is why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I have to find her, I need to find her! I have to know she’s okay!” Desperation and anguish laced every word.

“What if you find her and she doesn’t want to go back?”

Drake shrugged, “Then we’ll figure that out, together.”

“Together, huh?”

“Yeah, together. I’m not making the same mistake twice. I won’t leave her side again, whether she’s at the palace or….not.”

“That’s potential treason you’re talking about, you know.”

Drake’s jaw clenched, but his resolve was strong, “I’m aware.”

“You’d do that for her?”

“I’d do anything for her, but I have to fucking find her first! So, if you know where she is, please, I-“

“I can’t break a direct promise to my sister but….”

Drake inclined his head in encouragement.

Ryder continued, “You called her Ren. No one calls her that anymore. She told me about giving you that name the night you met, because she couldn’t reveal her true identity to a stranger.”

“Yeah, I know. She gave me her childhood nickname because she didn’t want to out and out lie by giving a made up name.” Because that’s the kind of person she was. Even thinking she would never see him again; she hadn’t wanted to lie to him.

“Did she tell you why that was her childhood nickname?”

“Because she was named after her grandmother and your mother thought it would be confusing to have two Riley’s around, so she started calling her by her middle name, Renee.”

“Which got shortened to Ren, by me, because I couldn’t pronounce the whole word.”

“Okay,” Drake said carefully, “What’s that got to do with where she’s at?”

“Nothing, just, you know, she was always very close to Gran, used to spend the summer with her at her lake house in Balymort. I mean, she loved it there, it was her go to place when she was stressed about something. Of course, Gran is gone now.”

“And the lake house?”

“Belongs to Riley now.”

Drake’s face lit up with relief, “Does this lake house have an address?”

“It does.” Ryder quickly gave it to him.

Drake typed the address into the GPS on his phone, “Thank you! You’re a good brother, Ryder, thank you!” He stumbled over his own feet in his haste to get back to his car.

“Just remember that I didn’t technically tell you anything!” Ryder called after him.

Cordonia….

There was a knock on his office door. Liam glanced up at the clock in surprise. It was late. Most of the staff had gone home. His father had retired for the evening.

“Come in.” He called, wondering who it could be. He was tired, he was overworked, he was stressed about the situation with his wife. He wasn’t in the mood for company.

“Hey.” Came a soft, familiar voice as the door snicked open.

All of the stress and tiredness washed right out of his body as his face lit up with surprise and happiness, “What are you doing here?”

His visitor shrugged, “You seemed stressed earlier. I thought you could use some company.”

Liam’s eyes tracked his former lover’s movements across the room, to the drink cart, then back across the room to his desk. He reached out and took the offered bourbon, “How do you always know just what I need?”

“Because I pay attention,” Came the answer, quiet and sincere, “Because I love you.”

“I love you too,” Liam answered as he stared down into his glass, “And I miss you.”

“Whose fault is that?”

“I-“

“I’ve stayed away like you asked, to give your marriage a chance at working. Is it?”

“No.” He admitted. “I’m always working, we barely speak to each other and she’s in love with someone else.”

A snort, “So all your noble sacrifices were for nothing.”

Liam’s head snapped up, “I did what I felt was right for Cordonia, you know that! It was never about what I wanted!”

“How does it hurt Cordonia for you to be happy, Liam?”

“I…I just knew that I had to make the political marriage and I assumed she would want all the things that customarily come with that.”

“You know that I understand all of that, right? All of it! I would never do anything to hurt you, or Cordonia or tarnish the public image of the monarchy. I know how to be discreet.”

“What are you saying?” Liam felt hope, and heat, start to rise in his chest.

“I think you know what I’m saying.”

“You would take me back? After….everything?”

“Everything what? We never had an issue until you felt you had to cut things off to make your arranged marriage work. It was never my choice to end things at all! I never stopped loving you, Liam, never! I’ve just been waiting, and hoping, for you to change your mind.”

“But all I can offer you is a hidden relationship, secret rendezvous, always in the background, never-“

The other man moved suddenly, quickly, surging out of his chair and around the desk, he took Liam by the lapels and pulled him to his feet, “I’m fine with all of that, Li, you know I am! When have we ever been public? I will always do what you require of me! Did I not prove that when I stood up next to you as a groomsman at your fucking wedding?”

Liam swallowed the lump in his throat, as the familiar and comforting scent of his lover washed over him, the electricity snapping between them, Liam’s voice went low and husky, “Yes, Max, yes you did.”

“I still love you.” Max whispered, his lips brushing fire across Liam’s. “Let me show you.”

“Show me.” Liam murmured, lips touching lips, as his hand slid across the front of Max’s trousers, “Now. I need you, Max.”

Their lips crashed together, tongues entwining, breath quickening as their hands explored, reacquainting themselves with each other.

Max deftly undid the buttons on Liam’s shirt as he trailed hot, wet kisses down his chest and abdomen. He sank to his knees as he unfastened his slacks.

“Oh shit.” Liam breathed out as his hands sank into Max’s hair and his head fell back.

Max ran his tongue teasingly around the tip, lapping up the precum. He licked up and down Liam’s length, slowly at first, then faster, with more pressure.

“Max….Max….” Liam panted, trying to pull him upright.

Max resisted his efforts, dodging his hands and dropped himself lower to lick and suck at Liam’s balls.

Liam staggered back, clutching the edge of the desk to keep himself upright. “Fuck, Max, please! I don’t want to cum in your mouth, I want to be inside you!”

“Too bad.” Max smirked up at him before taking his cock completely into his mouth and sucking.

And Max could suck the chrome off a bumper, Liam was sure of it. He was insanely good at what he was doing, and it had been months since Liam had had any release from anything other than his own hand. Far too soon, he was spilling himself down Max’s throat.

“Fuck. Max! That wasn’t fair!”

Max stood up with a sexy grin on his face, “All’s fair in love and war.”

“Oh yeah?” Liam reached for him with the first genuine laugh he’d had in months, tugging him closer by the waistband of his pants, “Your turn.”

“Oh, you don’t have to- oh!” Max’s body bowed forward as Liam pulled his cock free and wrapped his hand around it. “Oh! OH!”

Each pump of Liam’s fist jerked another “OH!” out of Max as his body spasmed.

“Jesus, Max, I’m hard again already!” Liam panted as he reached into a desk drawer for a small tube. He squeezed a liberal amount into the palm of his hand and returned it to Max’s cock, sliding his hand up and down, back and forth and around, spreading the lube while being ridiculously turned on by the low moans and whimpers spilling out of him.

Liam quickly coated his own cock with the lube, then took both dicks in his hand, pressing them base to base, sliding his hand up and down, jerking them both off as he did. The sensation of Max’s cock pressed into his own was overwhelming, shooting throbbing waves of ecstasy through his entire body. His hand glided slowly up and down their shafts, their foreheads pressed together, both men’s breathing ragged.

“Oh, god, Li, I’m close, I’m so fucking close!” Max gasped out.

Liam’s free hand went to tangle in Max’s hair, eyes locked, as he whispered, “Cum for me, baby, let go, give in, I got you.”

Liam continued to whisper soft words of encouragement into his ear as Max’s face contorted, a drawn out, high pitched whine escaped him, followed by a primal wail as he exploded in Liam’s hand.

“That’s my good boy.” Liam told him as he jackhammered his hand up and down on himself, using Max’s cum for lubrication. He kept his other hand gripped tight in Max’s hair as he rushed toward the edge again.

Both of Max’s hands cupped Liam’s head as he told him, “I fucking love you!”

At that declaration, Liam came again, hard. Tears pricked in his eyes as he held Max in place by his hair, unwilling or unable to release him. He slowly lifted his head to make eye contact as his fingers finally loosened, but he didn’t step away, “I love you too and I was a fool to ever think I could live without you.”

Max regarded him with a guarded expression, “I don’t expect anything to change. That’s not what this was about.”

Liam froze, “What was this about?”

“I told you. I love you. You’ve been stressed. Like you said, I always know what you need.”

“Is that all? Do you still want….this?” Liam pulled his hand free from Max’s hair to gesture between them.

Max nodded, “Yes. But I understand your position, you’ve made it very clear.”

“My position has changed.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Liam stepped back, using his discarded shirt to clean himself up with, “That you’re not going back to Ramsford. Send a car for your things.”

[jungkxook]

—backseat serenade. (m)

⟶ pairing: taehyung x reader

⟶ genre: punk!taehyung / band au / brother’s best friend au + smut 

⟶ words: 10,790

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: falling in love and having weekly sex with kim taehyung is wrong for a number of reasons — and, no, that’s not including the whole other issue that he’s also your brother’s best friend

⟶ warnings: multiple sex scenes, slight exhibitionism if u look hard enough, wall sex, car sex, unprotected sex, all the sex (seriously), fingering, pussy slapping (also if u look hard enough), lots of teasing, doggy style, riding, creampie

⟶ disclaimer: this story is another repost of an old one (although it’s basically been entirely rewritten lol)!  

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

“We have to hurry. I don’t have a lot of time.”

Taehyung says this with much difficulty, of course, especially when considering you’re currently pressed up against him, his fingers digging crescent-moons into your hips ━ but he knows you’re teasing him now.

You can’t help it, though; he just makes it so easy for you.

He can be so stubborn and impatient at times that poking fun at him brings you quite a bit of joy. Maybe not so much to him, as he often whines and complains that you like to torture him, but, really, how could you not? When you think about what he’s usually like in bed, away from prying eyes, it’s entirely different. So to see that dominance in him fade into nothing short of helpless is simply satisfying ━ even if you know you’ll pay for it at a later time. It doesn’t always happen either but when it does, you bask in it for as long as possible.

Which is why you seem to take the liberty of “torturing” him so sweetly now, just before the boys are about to play a gig at a bar late one night. Taehyung had found you the moment he and the boys had finished soundchecking for the evening, then had you pinned up against the brick wall of the dingy washroom, his hips digging harshly into yours, and his hand now gripping your thigh around his waist. It might have been you who instigated it, hooded eyes and fluttering lashes and shit-eating grins meeting him in secret from across the room as he stood on stage before you with his bass guitar in hand, but Taehyung was the one to put it into action just like he always does, pulling you in there even despite the fact that they were scheduled to play in twenty minutes.

But who could blame you? Taehyung is always so charming, and tonight he was looking extra irresistible. Maybe it was the silky blouse, the first few buttons left open so that the floral tattoo on his chest pokes through, leaving very little to the imagination, or maybe it was the way he had let his hair grow out a little longer than usual, soft dark curls pushed back by a single bandana.

“You’ll be late,” You warn him in between heated kisses as he pecks his way down to the underside of your jaw where he tongues a warm pattern there.

“Just a quickie,” Taehyung promises gruffly. His hips rut against yours again and you feel his straining erection against your inner thigh. Poor thing. “Been dying all day to feel you on my dick.”

You only hum in response, a small amused smirk plastered on your face. He’s sucking a hickey onto your neck when he speaks next.

“Had all these thoughts but I was all alone. It was terrible.”

“What kind of thoughts?” You pry, quirking a brow. Your fingers toy at the top of his belt buckle, pulling him towards you. “Let me guess. Were you thinking about what it feels like to have my mouth on you? All warm and wet.”

He doesn’t move a muscle when he feels your hand trail lower past his belt only to grab at his crotch through the rough material of his jeans. You press your palm against him and he hisses.

“Sucking you off nice and slow, just how you like it?” You probe, teeth tugging at his lower lip when he catches your mouth on his once more. Your voice is low and sultry and invokes something in him that has him tensing. “Or maybe the way it felt when you had me bent over your kitchen counter the other day. You know, you always make me feel so good, Tae━”

He growls against your mouth but the harsh sound dissolves into a strangled whine. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, love.”

“And I always love when you pull at my hair too━” But you continue on as if he hadn’t even spoken, the thrill of the moment coursing through your veins like crackling electricity. “And when you grip my thighs so tightly when your head’s between my legs━”

“Y/N,” he says your name in a strained warning, bordering on a desperate beg if you listen close enough. He gets distracted when you suck delicately on a spot on his jawline and has to take a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

“My mouth?” You ask, tantalizingly slowly. “Or me?”

“I’m a simple man, I just wanna cum,” he hums, earning a delighted snort from you. “I’ll take whatever you give me, Y/N, please.”

“Hmm…” You trail off. You press your palm a little harder against him, rubbing your hand across his length. “Think I want you inside me, Tae. Wanna be wrecked by you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Now, this seems to excite him to no end. He fumbles with his belt at once. A devious cackle meets his ears and he knows you’re purposely toying with him. The next few moments unfold in a blur as his eager hands join with your own nimble ones, having his belt undone in a matter of seconds and your skirt hitched up nearly to your waist. With one hand gripping his straining and leaking cock as he pulls himself free from his pants, the other hitches one of your thighs to his waist. He pushes into you at once, the familiar feeling of your wet walls coaxing him in further and further as he sinks against your chest entirely, a beautiful luscious moan falling from his lips and a hiss of glee from yours. And, then, all at once, it’s as if all the pressure that has been building up inside of him tumbles to the forefront to be released.

“Jesus, fuck,” he grunts. He buries his head against your chest, one hand feverishly grasping at your breasts from under your shirt, fortunate you chose to forgo a bra for the night.

“Ooh, Tae━” Your own arms wrap around his neck, holding him tightly to you, but you don’t think he’ll bother going very far when his own weight slumps against you entirely, pressing you against the wall roughly. And even though he’s quick to fuck himself into you, his hips hardly stray far from yours too, causing you to bob violently up and down the wall behind you, the rough brick structure scratching at your flesh paling in comparison to the cool metallic rings on his fingers holding you up and the burn between your legs as his cock stretches you open.

“Nice to know that’s all I am to you━” Your head falls back against the wall as he continues. “Something you can use to get off. Not that I mind.”

“Nah, that’s not all you are to me,” Taehyung sharply inhales, and then shudders. In the heat of the moment, you miss the sentiment in his voice. He lifts his head to yours finally, smothering your lips with his. “But your pretty little cunt sure is nice.”

A maniacal cackle bubbles at your throat as you nip at his lower lip. Before you can respond, outside the washroom Jimin’s voice can be heard calling out aimlessly for Taehyung as the boy most likely wanders by, oblivious to what’s unfolding only a few feet away from him. “Has anyone seen Tae? Taehyung! Get your ass back here or we’re gonna be late━”

Taehyung groans out of frustration and buries his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling angrily, “Fuckin’ hell.”

But despite the Jimin’s close proximity and despite Taehyung’s bitter resentment for it, his hips still continue to rut into yours. You do manage to pull apart from his mouth and giggle when he chases after your lips desperately. “Think that’s your cue, baby.”

“There’s no way you’d be that evil,” he protests like a whining child.

“But Jimin sounds pissed.”

Taehyung finds it hard to focus when your fingers tug at the collar of his shirt, absentmindedly (or so he thinks) running your hands under his shirt and over his chest. He cradles you close to him, following your every move. That, and the way your walls clench around him drives him wild. “Heaven forbid we let down Jimin.”

“Nnng━” You choke back a whimper. “He’ll be mad.”

“As if he wouldn’t already lose his shit if he found me here in such a compromising position with you being that you’re his sister.”

Compromising is certainly one word for it. So, maybe Taehyung had a point, but that never stopped him or you before. In fact, it only seemed to add to your lustful endeavours, as if you both enjoyed seeing how far you could push the boundaries before getting caught ━ or not.

It hadn’t always been like this. For a period of your life, you had somehow forced yourself to believe you had despised Taehyung as much as you claim, as much as you lie. You wondered just how Jimin could ever be friends with, or be as inseparable with, Taehyung as he was. Whereas Jimin is timid and shy, gentle and caring, like a soft breath of cool air on a hot summer’s day that sways the knee-high grass in meadows behind your house, Taehyung is energetic and effervescent, reckless and wild, akin to that of a sudden flash of lightning that breaks apart the calm sky, a clap of thunder that shakes even the very core of sleeping Gaia. Though, somehow, their two vastly different personalities come clashing together in a harmonious perfection and create something that is entirely too rambunctious for you to handle, even as a young child.

But now? Now you’re positive neither you nor Taehyung would stand a chance against Jimin’s wrath if he found out his best friend enjoyed weekly sex of all sorts with you, sometimes even when he’s asleep in the next room over in your shared apartment with him and Taehyung had somehow managed to sneak in during the night.

“You know he’s already suspicious,” You moan as his cock angles upward into you in such a way that makes your body tremble. You jut your hips forward, meeting his halfway. “Now━ Fuck, Tae━ you wanna… You wanna risk getting kicked from the band for not showing up to your set?”

“There’s still ten minutes,” he hisses hotly. “Ten minutes is more than enough time.”

“Then you’ll really be late.”

“It adds to the rockstar brand, doesn’t it?” he asks hastily. “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking wet and you’re teasing me?”

He’s met with a roll of your eyes, and then a drunken snicker as you retort, “Maybe being fashionably late will be more acceptable when you’re a big celebrity.”

“Did you find him?” Another voice suddenly sounds from outside, this time resembling Hoseok’s. Taehyung wonders how they haven’t heard either of you yet, the lewd wet noises of his cock burrowing into your cunt seeming to grow louder each time. Surely, you would have been caught by now had it not been for the thudding bass of the music playing at the bar.

“No,” Jimin grumbles, closer this time.

A dangerously loud whimper tumbles from your lips and Taehyung hurries to clamp his hand over your mouth. You’re fortunate when he does, clinging to his hand as he pumps himself into you. At the very least, no matter how cocky Taehyung got with you or how many times he teased the thought of getting caught, he would never actually risk facing Jimin’s mighty wrath. Still, he finds a way to have fun with it.

“Uh oh.” Taehyung meets your darkened stare, lids heavy, as his other hand leaves your thigh to stick between your legs, fingers rubbing circles against your clit. You know he does it on purpose, judging by the broadening smirk on his face when the added stimulation makes your hips jerk instinctively beneath him. He’s surprised when you hardly let out a noise, safe for a sudden gasp for air. “Not even one tiny moan? Come on, baby.”

“Fuck it. Wherever he is, he better know we’re on in ten!” Jimin’s voice carries back to the two of you. Then, a little more faintly as he wanders off, you can hear him grumble, “I swear to God, this asshole━”

“Wait, wait━” You rasp suddenly, twisting and turning beneath Taehyung and the boy stops at once. You try not to let your heart swoon at the way his hands are all soft and gentle as they touch you now, sliding his palm off your mouth if only for it to fall to your hips where he rubs at comfortingly.

He tries to ignore the way his cock twitches, shoved so deep within your walls. “What’s wrong?”

You slither from his grasp, unraveling your leg from his waist and delicately pushing him away, trying not to focus on the way your pussy throbs at the sudden missing warmth of his length. Taehyung is suddenly even more concerned, the poor boy gawking at you helplessly, his swollen cock completely forgotten as he fixes himself back into his jeans, his attention solely focused on you and your wellbeing now.

“What happened? Did I hurt you━”

“No,” You promise. “No, I just━” You look sheepish, and he wonders why, up until he sees you fidgeting with your skirt in an attempt to fix it and the mischievous twinkle flashing in your eyes. “I just figured maybe we shouldn’t risk it tonight. I mean, you heard Jiminie.” You pat Taehyung’s chest once, smoothing out the material of his now crumpled shirt. “So, I’ll see you out there.”

Taehyung blinks once. “What the fuck.”

It doesn’t seem to hit him at first; not until he spots your wicked grin as you lean past him to look at your reflection in the mirror, fixing your clothes and hair. You wipe at a smudge of lipstick in the corner of your mouth, and Taehyung gaps.

“Y/N, what the fuck?” he whines. Needy and desperate hands try to grab at you on your way to the door, but he ultimately lets you weave your way out of his reach. “What are you, the antichrist? Don’t be such a tease. I’ve got a problem that you helped start. It’s only fair if you help finish it.”

Admittedly, it is cruel. He looks both shameless and shameful, an exasperated and flustered expression to match the helpless state he’s in. Shirt askew on his shoulders, hair a wild mess, and his painfully obvious boner struggling against his jeans. You almost feel bad, until you realize you shouldn’t be. Because this is all it’s ever been between the two of you ━ sex, and more sex, no feelings attached, but lately something seems off…  Either way, Taehyung will get over it, and he’ll still come crawling back for more which is why you have no qualms when you leave. Just, maybe, not in the way you would like.

The last thing he sees of you before you flee the washroom for him to fend for himself is a seductive smirk and a wink being thrown over your shoulder as you remark innocently, prettily, “You have hands.”

And then you’re gone, leaving him alone in the dingy washroom. He doesn’t come out right away, though it leaves the restless boys that make his band awaiting him to speculate some more.

“He’s gonna totally screw us over if he doesn’t show up in the next two minutes,” Jimin is saying hotly to the boys behind the stage when you rejoin them. The bar is already filling up with partygoers but mostly fans of the band, eagerly anticipating the set.

“Relax, Jimin,” Namjoon says carelessly. “He’s probably getting blown in the washroom or something. Can’t rush a man through these things.”

Jimin rolls his eyes as the others snicker. When the others have distracted themselves by discussing other business, you approach your brother casually, saying as inconspicuous as possible yet reassuringly, “Everything will be fine. I’m sure he’ll be here any second.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if he throws this all away for a girl,” Jimin shakes his head. “It’s a miracle he ━ or any of the guys, for that matter ━ hasn’t tried anything on you yet.”

You try to laugh, though the sound is more forced and strained than you would like. At least Jimin doesn’t seem to notice. “But he’s your friend. Don’t you trust him?”

“I do trust him,” Jimin replies. “He’s a good guy, he’s just too caught up in all this band life. We’ve both seen it with the guys, especially with Taehyung. They take advantage of this stuff in the early stages.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry,” You promise. “I’m not interested in your friends and never will be ━ especially not Taehyung.”

Fortunately, the dreaded conversation doesn’t last much longer. Taehyung does end up making it to his own set on time, and when he finds you out in the crowd, you’re smirking deviously up at him for a secret that never has to be told aloud to the world and certainly not to Jimin.

You don’t quite remember when you and Taehyung started hooking up behind your brother’s back or what exactly caused it.

If you think back long and hard enough, you’re positive it was the result of some sort of drunken one night stand that elapsed into sober days and conscious decision making, which then turned into weeks, then months, which leaves you to where you are now. Almost a year of sucking your brother’s best friend’s dick and you’ve somehow, miraculously, never been caught. But aside from occasionally sleeping with one another, there was nothing more to be exposed to Jimin in terms of romance. Because, as far as he was aware, you and Taehyung were still embroiled in your childhood rivalry with one another that was less violent now than when you were younger and more civil, aside from the offhanded jabs and retorts shot at one another. And, as far as Taehyung and you were aware, the charade and the hook-ups all resulted in a peculiar sort of friendship between the two of you that was certainly as far as either of you would take things. Supposedly.

But between sexual teasing and taunts, you sometimes wonder if the lines have begun to blur, and if you’ve gotten too comfortable with Taehyung asking to sleep in your bed. Which is why, maybe, you overcompensate by “torturing” him on the days that he really needs you, like the night before in the grimy washroom of the bar. He hadn’t joined the real world or the band until the very last second they were meant to go on stage, looking all the more discomposed and flushed in the face when he rushed out, though at least he had somehow managed to tame his raging boner.

Now you were certain the universe was toying with you, bittersweet payback coming to nip you in the ass.

You hadn’t been so bothered the night before, leaving with the boys when their set was done and returning to your home with Jimin, not a word being uttered between you and Taehyung, even up until the very next day where you find yourself now. Crammed in a local studio run by some friend Yoongi had known from college, you were quite used to watching the band brainstorm new lyrics and record songs in real time, all from the sofa shoved up against one wall of the small space. You had been there every step of the way ━ their first rehearsal as a formed band, the day they discovered the group’s name in almost a dreamlike epiphany, the release of their very first full-length album produced and recorded all by them and promoted all by them, their very first gig with a decent following and the jittery anxiety they had all been troubled by, and every gig following it in which their nerves subsided and their effervescent charm and credence began to finally show through. But they had never been as disconcerted as they had now ━ which, really, you don’t blame them.

“Bro, this is stressing me out.” This aggravated groan sounds from Jungkook, the band’s lead guitarist.

He’s currently splayed out on the ground of the sofa you’re seated on, head thrown back against the cushions. Every other boy in the studio bare a similar wearied look ━ even Jimin, as their usual spritely lead singer.

You suppose that’s just the inevitable stress bound to occur when a scout from the infamous Columbia Records had somehow found the band either in person at one of their gigs or online and taken an interest in them and were interested in signing them. After weeks of back and forth discussion, Jin had been fortunate enough to land a meeting with the label in New York City, looking promising enough to excite even the stoic Yoongi. And after a month of planning, their meeting was set to take place finally only a week from that day. The issue seemed to arise when the label claimed they wanted the band to bring a set of new songs to the table to discuss at the last possible moment, sending the boys into a chaotic frenzy as they had only just released their first album a few months back. You had come to help the boys, though they were lucky enough to have found a handful of pre-written songs from their repertoire that still, unfortunately, needed fine tuning, vocals, and melodies. After working meticulously all morning, they were only just now deciding to split for a much needed lunch break.

“Same here,” Jimin says glumly, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Can’t wait to get out of here. I feel like I’m going insane.”

As the boys begin to shift and move, Jin gets to his feet and clasps his hands onto Jimin’s shoulders, giving him a reassuring nudge. “Just think about it: international success and Grammys await.”

“If we don’t fall apart before then,” Namjoon stifles a yawn as he stretches out his arms. He tosses a glance at you and Taehyung. “You guys coming?”

“Yeah,” You say, though you hardly move from your seat. “I’ll be there.”

“I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute,” Taehyung nods. He’s sat across from you on the couch, journal propped on one knee as he scrawls away in it, a jarble of chord progressions and lyrics. “Just gonna finish cleaning up in here.”

It seems convincing enough to Namjoon and the rest of the boys, even Jimin who is already out the door, not in the least bit suspicious of you or Taehyung. Honestly, you’re sure not even Taehyung is suspicious of your unmoving presence beside him until the boys leave and suddenly the room falls silent.

“You’re stressed,” You point out in a gentle musing. Which is true. You don’t usually see Taehyung riddled with anxieties, typically keeping to himself and maintaining some sort of effortless and mysterious coolness around the others.

The boy quirks a brow as he lifts his gaze to look up at you, tossing the journal onto the ground. Whether or not he seems to catch the underlying suggestive and sultry tone in your voice, you’re not quite sure but could you really blame yourself? It was difficult having to watch Taehyung all morning in his element, gazing at him whenever he was in the recording booth, headphones dangling from his neck and bass guitar in his lap as his expert fingers thrummed away at the strings. He always looks most attractive to you when he’s so utterly consumed by his work and his art, whether it be on stage in front of hundreds of people or in a more intimate setting at recordings or practices.

“What happened to you not wanting to disappoint Jimin by getting caught or whatever it was?” he asks, waving his hand dismissively. “Staying back with me is definitely gonna catch his attention.”

“Maybe,” You shrug. You catch his hand as he brings it back down, raising it to your lips to kiss at the tips of his fingers slowly, one-by-one, never once breaking eye contact with him. “I was just thinking you could use some help. And an apology for yesterday.”

Despite the way Taehyung’s dark gaze scrutinizes you in a taunting manner, he still watches as you take his hand and place it between your thighs, over your core. At least today you chose to wear leggings, the smooth material allowing for very little obstacles standing in his way as you press his fingers against you. A wolfish smirk tugs at his lips. “You think your pussy’s gonna help me?”

“Yes, actually, I do,” You say, matter-of-fact. “And I don’t think it will; I know. If I remember correctly, you were begging to use me as a stress-reliever before your set yesterday.”

Taehyung clucks his tongue. “Sounds a lot to me like you just want my fingers in you. Not so nice now being the needy one, huh?”

“I want you to do a lot of things to me, Tae.”

“Careful, baby. You’re playing a dangerous game,” Taehyung says. Still, he entertains the idea. Pressing his thumb harder against you, he rubs leisurely at the sensitive part of your clit over your clothes and the sudden feeling makes you pur with glee. “Besides, why should I be so nice and help you after what you did to me?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re still on about that? You’re a grown man, you can pleasure yourself.”

“How mean.” He feigns a look of mock hurt. “It doesn’t feel as nice when it isn’t you.”

“Taehyung,” You scold his name in a warning, but it mostly comes out as a contented sigh. You know you’ve already won him over, though the impatient tug you give on his arm as you clutch at his wrist of the hand still between your legs is a wordless reminder. Your fingers flutter up to his face, pulling him down for a kiss which he gladly obliges to. “Think they’ll walk in?”

“Nah.” His voice is a throaty murmur. “We’ve got some time. The boys’ seem worried enough as is; think they’re already halfway to that pho place around the corner they wanted to try, and they’re probably not gonna wanna come back here for at least another hour. Plus, I think we’ve given the producers a raging headache with all our requests so they definitely won’t want to be back in here for a while.”

You snicker at the thought, humming into his mouth as you pull him down with you onto the sofa, bending your knee so as to let him slide into place between your legs more comfortably. He pulls his hand away from you only long enough to lick at his digits before slipping his hand past the waistband of your leggings this time. Nudging aside your underwear, he swipes his fingers at your clit, marveling at your stickiness.

Your breath hitches in your throat. “What do we say when they ask where we went?”  

“Doesn’t matter,” he grunts into your mouth. “Fuck, tell them we were busy fucking for all I care.”

You swat at his chest playfully but lose your spirit when he presses his thumb against your clit, causing your hips to rut forward in a silent plea. Taehyung’s right, you think. Your excuse for the boys can be worried about later. Now, Taehyung slides a finger into you, then another, stretching you open experimentally, causing you to croon.

Face warm and head spinning, a sudden thought pops into your head that seems much more intimate than his fingers in you. “So━” You bite your lip to stop a moan. The question that forms on your tongue is timid despite the lewd things that threaten to run through your mind at his every touch, “S-So, what happens when you’re a big and famous rockstar, touring the world now?”

“I’ll take you with me.” Taehyung tongues a pattern down to the underside of your jaw, sending shivers down your spine. He curls his fingers upward, sinking further into you until he’s reached his knuckles, enjoying the way your hips twitch beneath him. “Fuck you in every city we go to, in every fancy, over-the-top hotel we stay in. New York, L.A., Paris, London, Rome…”

“Romantic,” You snort, although maybe it kind of is if you think about it long enough. He slides a third finger into you then, fucking his digits in and out of you at a gradual pace that has your core aching. You’re all warm and wet around him that it goes straight to his dick, the thought of him tearing you apart as he plunges his cock into you making him grow antsy. It does the same to you. “Nnngh, Taehyung━ We’ll see about that when you meet pretty girls thousands of miles away who can offer you so much more than me.”

“Hmm… Dunno about that,” he hums. “There’s only gonna be you.”

You wonder if he knows what he’s doing, the way his words make your heart stutter in your chest. But then you start to wonder why you’re even feeling such things for him. Pretty words promising you that you meant more to him than sex meant little to you in comparison when he never acted upon it ━ but could you blame him? Even you were apprehensive of ruining what you already had with him, his friendship with Jimin if you told him how you were feeling lately, and the integrity of the band.

Your legs tremble as your orgasm approaches. Taehyung busies himself by nipping and sucking at your neck and all you can do is puff and pant, the lewd wet noises of his fingers penetrating you filling your ears. “Taehyung━ God, I wanna feel your dick so badly.”

“Yeah?” he growls. “Gonna let me fuck you finally? You’re so wet right now, could slip right in. Fuck, look at what you do to yourself by being so mean to me.”

He twists his finger up into you in such a way that has you grinding against his knuckles. “Please, Tae━”

“Got you stretched so wide too,” Taehyung hums pensively. “Your pussy always takes me so well too, doesn’t it?”

“Hmm, Taehyung!”

“Look at you,” he hisses, quickening his pace. Your back arches until your chest is pressed flush against his, walls quivering around his fingers. You reach out desperately for his face, smoothing your lips over his but you fail to really make any sort of connection. Instead, your jaw unhinges in a breathless moan against his mouth as he rests his forehead against yours. “Wanna come around my fingers so badly, don’t you? So close too.”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m━” Your hands ball into fists around the collar of his shirt. Your eyes threaten to roll back as you get closer and closer, your aching pussy so close to feeling its much needed relief when━ “What the fuck, Taehyung?”

He pulls his hand from your core before you can cum, leaving you a sweating and panting mess. The sudden loss of contact leaves you dumbfounded, gawking at the boy who’s suddenly grinning in a similar ungodly manner to your selfish response to him the day before. Payback has never tasted so sweet before to him, and so bitter to you.

“You did that on purpose,” You whine, jutting your hips forward desperately to meet his hand again. Instead, he gives your leaking and sensitive pussy one slap, the pleasant jolt shooting up your spine making you moan. “You’re so mean. I thought you were over it.”

“Well, now I am.” He pulls his hand out from between your legs and licks at his fingers. “Have you had your fun?”

It takes you a moment to respond as you gather yourself. He finds your sulking a little hilarious, and maybe also feels a little bad. “For now.”

“That’s a good girl.” He leans down to kiss your mouth hungrily, enjoying when you suck eagerly at his lower lip. “Because I’ve had my fun.”

You open your mouth to say something more but are stopped shortly when, somewhere outside the recording room, you can hear the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching, followed by the sound of the doorknob turning and Jimin’s curious voice, “Tae?”

You and Taehyung have stumbled off of one another within seconds, listening to the way Taehyung curses under his breath as he flings himself off the couch and a few feet away as you sit upright on the sofa. You have to only pray and hope that you both don’t look too obvious, though you think it’s too late for that. Either way, you cross one thigh over the other, biting down harshly on your tongue as Jimin stumbles into the room. As his gaze sweeps fleetingly across the room, he hardly takes note of both you and Taehyung.

“There you two are,” he says. “Was wondering where you went off to. And━” His stare flutters over to Taehyung for a moment and you hold your breath, fearing he may know a little too much, when━ “There’s my wallet! I knew I forgot it here.”

He crosses the room swiftly and plucks his abandoned wallet from the desk, holding it up to show the two of you. You smile nervously and Taehyung takes it upon himself to answer, clearing his throat in the process. “We were just gonna catch up with you, actually. Y/N was just helping me finish up here.”

You’re fortunate that Jimin’s probable sudden panic of trying to find his wallet and the relief of realizing he hadn’t lost it to the ether is what distracts him. He seems hardly intrigued by your lack of presence or yours and Taehyung’s odd companionship without the other boys. Whatever the case, you both manage to make it out of the recording studio unscathed and Taehyung does a well enough job at deflecting from any further suspicions by talking as normally as he usually would with Jimin on your walk over to the restaurant the rest of the boys are at.

Well, as unscathed as you can be, the tragedy of your lost orgasm still haunting you even as you sit across from Taehyung at the table.

“Now you’ll really be late.”

You say this as a heedful warning, though you’re fortunate when you find that you’re both distracted this time.

You know you have Taehyung under your spell that morning when he catches you purposely wandering his apartment in nothing but a pair of your panties. It’s not as if it’s uncommon to see you naked in his kitchen, making breakfast. That morning, when you walk into the bedroom holding a cup of tea, Taehyung almost chokes at the sight of your bare chest. It’s early the day of the band’s flight to New York City for their meeting with Columbia Records, and though Taehyung has roughly an hour before he has to leave the apartment, you’re worried he might just miss the flight altogether when he pulls you onto his bed again after a night of fucking.

“Don’t care. Come here.” His large hands are on you in an instant, roaming your body as he kisses the underside of your jaw and pins you beneath him. You let him get carried away, let him leave a trail of sloppy kisses from your lips down to your collarbones and in between your breasts.

“What are you gonna tell the boys when they’re on a flight to New York and you’re still in your apartment?” You rasp, fingers threading in his hair.

“Was busy spending the last twenty-four hours making hot, passionate love to you.”

The wry grin on his face makes it come across as a joke and makes your heart skip a beat. Admittedly, that was partly the truth. He had invited you over the day before and you had spent the better part of it in his bed in every position imaginable. Have to make up for the three days we won’t see each other, he had said after your first round, head between your legs and mouth on your cunt.

You snicker now but the sound falls short when a moan replaces it. “Don’t think you can call it passionate love making when you gave up halfway and made me ride you like you always do.”

He gasps and bites down teasingly on your skin but not with enough pressure to hurt. “Was that a jab at my manhood?”

“Of course not.”

“Besides, I like it best when you’re in charge.”

You roll your eyes but pull him up to your face so that you can kiss him again. It’s an odd shift in atmosphere when you find him kissing you in a chaste manner, despite having marked you red all over and legs still shaking from how many times he’s made you come in the last twenty-four hours. But it wasn’t all sex for once. Falling asleep in his arms left you still dreaming even when you were long awake.

“Gonna miss you,” he whispers once he parts from you. He rubs soft circles against your hips, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

“It’s only for three days,” You say.

“I know,” he sighs. “I just━ God, I’ve gotten so used to you being here. I’m just sick of sleeping alone all the time. Shit, I don’t think I’m making any sense anymore. All I know is you’re driving me crazy.”

“Taehyung…”

“Am I wrong to feel that way?” He lifts his head now to look at you, ardent sincerity glazing over his eyes as he gazes at you.

You’re too caught up in the moment, the lustful afterglow of sex and whatever else is starting to emerge however blurry it may be now, to not notice right away the sound of knocking on the front door. Instead, you reach out to push his hair out of his eyes. You think you know what he means; you just want to hear him say it aloud. Your question is a gentle probe. “What are you trying to say?”

“I━”

But Taehyung’s voice is cut short by the sound of Jin’s shouting from the front door. “Taehyung, you in here?”

Wide eyes meet with yours in the sudden alarming panic of Jin’s arrival. Taehyung grumbles mostly to himself, “God dammit, what’s he doing here?”

You can hear the band’s manager talking aloud, quite possibly to another one of the boys that he’s dragged with him, and you and Taehyung scramble to react. Taehyung only has enough time to clamber out of his bed and pull on a pair of discarded sweatpants from the floor as you pull on one of his sweaters and grab the bedsheet to cling to your chest if only so it can hide the rest of your bare legs.

“Are you alive?” Jin’s asking, closer this time.

“We had to come check on you━” You don’t register the second voice until it’s too late.

Because there, standing at the threshold of Taehyung’s door to his room, is not just Jin but your brother. Jimin’s familiar pop of bright blue hair and nonchalant smile are much too hard to forget. But, upon stumbling across Taehyung’s room, they each come to a stuttering halt. It doesn’t take long for the realization to dawn on them ━ and how could they not piece together the puzzles painting such a painfully obvious picture? The dishevelled bed, the clothes that litter his floor, your clothes that litter his floor, Taehyung’s shirtless and sloppy attire, your own half-hearted attempt at dressing yourself and the marks that riddle your body that you were banking on fading completely by the time you were reunited with Jimin after their return from their meeting.

“Uh…” Taehyung trails off awkwardly. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh shit,” Jin curses under his breath. Despite having no idea whatsoever about you or Taehyung (though maybe having a better inkling than the rest of the boys), he turns hastily towards Jimin. “Maybe now’s not a good time.”

But Jimin hardly budges. Instead, he looks enlivened, jaw setting harshly in place as his brows furrow into a scowl. “Jin knows I have a spare key to your place after that one time you locked yourself out and he wanted to make sure we all met up before getting to the airport. You weren’t answering our calls, thought you were dead. Guess now I know it’s because you were too busy fucking my sister.”

“Jimin,” You hiss sharply.

Taehyung shakes his head wildly. “It’s not like that.”

“Really?” Jimin retorts. “‘Cause it sure seems like it is.”

Taehyung grimaces. “Okay, yes, but not in the way you think. It’s not some meaningless fuck. I care about her.”

But that only seems to be the wrong answer. Would there ever be a right one? Taming Jimin’s stubborn anger and protectiveness over you was hard enough on any other day. Now that he knows you’ve slept with Taehyung, Taehyung felt as if he were a lost cause.

“How long has this been happening?” Jimin asks, tight-lipped.

You can’t bring yourself to answer, neither can Taehyung, and that seems to be enough to answer his worries. Maybe if you had acted faster, said it was only a one night stand, he wouldn’t have been able to read your mind so easily. Yet your silence was enough to make you guilty.

“Shit,” Jimin runs a hand through his hair. When he speaks next, he’s looking only at you. “Do you love him?”

“I━” You open your mouth, as if to explain yourself. This time, the answer came much easier. You know what you want to say, but voicing the truth out loud in front of your brother and Taehyung, who might not feel the same way, makes you clamp your mouth shut. Whatever your answer anyway should be for Taehyung only. Instead, you frown up at your brother. “I don’t get why you’re so upset anyway. Who cares if we’re in love? Who cares what we are? It’s not like you can control me. I can make these sorts of decisions myself, Jimin. This is ridiculous.”

“No. I get that,” Jimin says firmly. “But you’re my sister, and your wellbeing comes first to me. So, Tae━” Now, your brother turns to look at Taehyung. You’ve never seen him so furious before, disappointed even, and certainly not when it comes to Taehyung. “If you care about her so much, when were you gonna let her know?”

This seems to catch your attention, sending a curious gaze between Jimin and Taehyung. “Let me know what?”

“That he’s been screwing some other chick he met at the bar a while ago,” Jimin says. “Walked in on them once by accident and, after the fact, he said some similar bullshit about how it wasn’t meaningless or whatever.”

You blink.

The blow to your chest, and subsequently your heart, makes you teeter on your frail legs. Because if what Jimin was saying was true, then were all the sweet sentiments Taehyung whispered to you even yours to begin with? Did he care about you as much as you cared about him? But, the worst part of it all, is how utterly foolish you feel. Because when Taehyung doesn’t immediately answer, your question about whether or not Jimin was telling the truth was confirmed; and you had let yourself almost willingly fall for Taehyung despite all the warning signs. Despite the fact that you had both initiated your relationship on the basis that nothing would ever blossom from it.

“Is that true?” You ask Taehyung.

The boy hesitates. He meets your stare solemnly, flinching when he notes just how hurt you seem. “Partly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You demand. But before he can respond, you scoff under your breath as you begin to gather your belongings. “Oh my god. I’m so stupid━”

Taehyung starts. “Wait, Y/N━”

“Just leave her alone━” Jimin interrupts.

“Hey. Hey!” Jin snaps abruptly, the firm tone in his voice catching the boys’ attention. “We gotta go. Now. Taehyung, get yourself decent; Jimin, in the living room. We leave for the airport in five minutes.”

You decide you no longer want to wait for an answer. Your own embarrassment is far too much to handle for the moment being, and you favour the idea of fleeing from Taehyung’s sorrowful gaze, Jimin’s heated one, and Jin’s scrutinizing scowl.

You’re long gone before Taehyung can even think to stop you.

The three days in which the boys find themselves in New York City for their meeting with Columbia Records is the longest three days of your life.

Taehyung never bothers to call or text you ━ and the looming swell of concern of awaiting to hear his voice or your brother’s or any answer of how the meeting has gone fades in comparison. Because every sweet nothing he ever said to you suddenly means nothing, and you don’t know where that leaves you.

Just when you think you can take the torture no longer, the band returns. Jimin comes bounding into your shared apartment the moment his flight lands and the taxi has brought him home, greeting you with the wonderful news that the band’s been signed, and a celebration is in store consisting of their closest friends and family members. While you initially bask in Jimin’s excitement, mirroring your own, it quickly fades as you fear you’ve lost Taehyung for good.

“You’ll come to the party, won’t you?” Jimin asks hopefully at some point. “The boys will want you there.”

You shift warily in your seat on the sofa across from your brother who stands in the midst of the room after having animatedly relaying the story of the past three days to you. You shrug now, and when Jimin shoots you a quizzical look, you decide to approach the topic cautiously, dancing over your words slowly. “I dunno, Jimin. If he’s gonna be there… I don’t know if I can face him right now.”

Jimin comes to an immediate halt. His face falls and he sinks onto the seat beside you. “Y/N… Look, I was wrong, and I’m sorry. While we were away, Taehyung and I talked and he’s gutted about what happened. But that’s all I can say. I think you should talk to each other. No, I want you to talk to each other. I know now that you’re meant for one another.”

“Are you only telling me this because you’re being your best friend’s wingman, or because you’re being my brother?” You ask, a weak lighthearted attempt at a joke.

“Both,” Jimin says warmly. “Because I care about you both, and I don’t want to have to live with the regret of being the reason two people perfect for each other aren’t together.”

And when your brother says it with such earnestness, you have no choice but to believe him.

So, despite feeling like a fool for potentially crossing paths with Taehyung again, you muster the nerve and motivation to go, and arrive at the party with Jimin later that night. The impromptu last minute party itself is held at Namjoon’s home, filled to the brim with mostly familiar faces and a few unrecognizable ones that must be acquaintances of the boys you’ve never met before. You make your rounds and congratulate the boys one-by-one, being enveloped into a tight hug with each one, safe for Taehyung whom you don’t see at first.

You’re fortunate when mutual friends of yours and Jimin’s arrive, spending the majority of the night with them as your brother wanders off to get wasted. At some point, as the night drawls on, you catch sight of Taehyung and the presence of him is enough to dampen your mood entirely. You decide you’re no longer in the mood for a party, and make haste for the door, stumbling out onto the lawn. You only make it so far, coming to stop at the foot of the curb to breathe in the cool night air around you, before you notice Taehyung hurrying out after you, calling your name.

Almost as soon as he’s able to catch his breath and you lock gazes with the boy, he asks aloud, “Where are you going?”

You hadn’t expected him to follow you, nor the terrible nearly tangible awkwardness that hangs heavy in the air. Still, the concern in his voice and the corners of his eyes softening at the sight of you makes you want nothing more than to forget all the heartache. “Home.”

“Let me drive you?” he asks delicately.

You hesitate before responding. You know the simple offer of a drive is more than that. It’s an invitation to talk to him, sort things out. And you, of course, can’t possibly deny him. As soon as you’ve followed him to his car and he starts driving, everything goes silent. It’s almost unbearable as you shift uncomfortably in your seat and gaze out the window, hoping the long car ride will pass by rather quickly. You thwart his attempts at starting any conversation by turning the radio up and letting the music ━ a mix from Taehyung’s phone filled with pop-punk and indie classics ━ fill the emptiness but it doesn’t work with distracting you. He takes a detour from the path to your apartment, driving instead to a nearby lookout point of a hiking trail, now abandoned and desolate this late at night.

It’s quiet even long after he shifts the car into park, leaving only the sound of the stereo to fill the void. Then, at long last━

“You didn’t call,” You say.

Taehyung swallows thickly. “I know.”

“That’s all I wanted. An explanation.”

“I know,” Taehyung shifts in his seat to look at you. “I’m sorry. I messed up.”

“I know I have no right to feel like you’re mine when the reason we started seeing each other was casual, but everything you’ve been saying to me lately━” You rasp, “that I’m the only one for you and that you were gonna miss me because you were tired of being alone ━ did all of it mean nothing?”

The boy’s stare hardens. “No. I was never lying when I was with you. Everything I said, I meant.”

“Then why didn’t you call?”

“Because I was scared I had lost you,” Taehyung grovels all at once, silencing you. “Because things were starting to finally change between us ━ where it wasn’t just sex all the fucking time, but something genuine ━ and I didn’t want to face the reality that it could all be gone, just like that.”

“Well, what did Jimin mean, about that other girl? Was he telling the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Did you fuck her?”

“Yes.”

“And did you fuck her while you were still saying there was only me in your life and pretending you meant it?”

“I was never pretending,” Taehyung protests exasperatedly. “We had a fling, but that was months ago, when you and I first started whatever the hell this is. But Jimin was wrong. I never told him she was the one, or whatever. I said I didn’t want it to be meaningless anymore. That I want something more. I thought I had found it with that girl; but it was really with you.”

“Taehyung…” You whisper his name now, a delicate utterance.

“You can’t tell me I’m the only one feeling this way about us,” Taehyung beckons desperately. “I know you’ve been feeling it too.”

You purse your lips; then, you let out a small exhalation of air. “Tae… I think I’ve been in love with you ever since we were little kids.”

Now, Taehyung’s stare softens. He reaches out to grab at your face, gingerly pulling you into him, thumb caressing your cheek.

“I want you,” he promises. “God, I want you so bad. Do you really think I’d risk getting kicked from the band for anyone else but you? Or let anyone else tease me so bad but you?”

You can’t help but snicker. You shake your head at him as he pulls you into a kiss. He grins against your mouth and, this time when he kisses you, it’s hot and needy, a whole three day’s worth of pent up emotions and desires pouring into your every touch. Your hands fumble to undo your seatbelt and then you’re climbing over onto his lap and he’s welcoming you with open arms, the skirt of your dress hitching up higher on your thighs. Your knee, or maybe it was your foot or elbow, accidentally hits the horn of the steering wheel and startles the two of you, earning a squeak from you, before you both erupt into laughter. Taehyung reaches down to push the seat back a few inches to give you more space in the cramped driver’s seat and then he pauses to look up at you with mesmerized eyes. He kisses you again and again, as your hands come up to grasp at the sides of his neck.

“Had enough of the bullshit, have you?” he asks humorously. “Gonna take matters into your own hands?”

“I’m tired of all this teasing and chasing,” You pout. You’ve already begun grinding your hips against his, enjoying the way his face pinches in pure delight. He burrows his face into your chest, breasts soft against his head. A soft moan bubbles at your lips as you plant your own hands onto his chest. “I think so are you. We’ve both got a taste of it, haven’t we? We need to make up for lost time.”

“Fair enough,” he rasps. “What do you want from me, baby?”

“You, all of you,” You murmur. “Want your dick in me.”

“Gonna let me finish this time?” he tuts.

Your amused giggle meets his ears and he wonders how you can be both cute and sexy at the same time. “Mmm, I wanna be filled with your cum.”

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung grunts. “Okay, okay. Here━”

Somehow, he’s able to gesture to the backseat and you and him clamber your way there until you’re finally both situated once more with you straddling his lap. There’s a mutual understanding that there’s no point, nor time, for foreplay but it’s not as if either of you mind. Taehyung’s surely had enough and so have you because while teasing him may be fun for a while, it certainly can feel like torture trying to stay away from him in the meantime. You help him fumble with the belt of his jeans so that he can unbuckle them and watch as he grasps at himself, pulling his cock free. Immediately, you’re lifting your hips to pull the skirt of your dress up higher and his hands help aid you clumsily, palms gliding up the smooth expanse of your thighs.

Then, fumbling to push you on your knees before him, with one hand on the small of your back, he pulls you towards him and gazes down between the two of you as he hooks a thumb over the material of your panties to push it to the side and teases the tip of himself over your slick folds. Your hands flail outward, palms pressing against the windowpane as he somehow situates himself behind you in the cramped space on his knees. He grunts from behind you at the feeling and then slowly and carefully guides you down onto him. It takes a moment to adjust but as you sink fully down until he’s balls deep, his cock coaxed easily by your leaking wetness, the both of you come to a halt, sputtering for air.

“Wait, wait,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck━ Stay put for a sec.”

“Why?” You ask, jutting your hips backwards teasingly. “Gonna cum already?”

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he mutters. He thrusts up into you without warning as payback, causing you to gasp out loud and flail forward. “No, you brat. I just want to enjoy it a little bit longer.”

He’s right. It does feel nice to finally feel some sort of friction after three days of nothing. To him, you just feel so nice and warm and snug and, to you, he fills you up so perfectly. So you stay put for a little bit, adjusting to the feeling as you kiss each other slow and steadily. His dick twitches inside you, warm and wet and so fucking hard. He’s just so big, your head is spinning. It’s almost as if you feel him in the pit of your stomach, legs trembling at the feeling. He yanks impatiently at the top of your dress, pulling it down so that the material pools at your waist now, reveling in the way your bare breasts spring free. At once, his hands are reaching around your front to palm at your breasts, grasping at your hips and navel.

“Wanna wreck you so bad,” Taehyung growls roughly against the shell of your ear as he presses his chest against your back. “Gonna fill you up so good, make your pussy all mine. How does that sound?”

“Want it so bad,” You whine, one arm hooking behind you so that your fingers can scratch at his hair. “F-fuck, Taehyung━”

When he tugs lightly at your hips, you take that as his gesture for you to move and start grinding your hips against his.

“Been waiting so long,” he hisses. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Don’t know why you always gotta tease me.”

“Taehyung,” You choke out. “Oh, f-fuck━”

“That’s it, baby girl. Doing so well,” Taehyung grunts as your walls quiver around him. He starts grinding into you, rough snaps of his hips sending you jolting forward each time. “Gonna take my dick like a good girl?”

“Y-Yes━ God, want it so bad,” You cry out. “Give it to me harder, please, Taehyung━”

He gladly obliges, quickening his pace until he’s slamming his hips into yours in thrusts that tremble you to the core. Tears begin to prick at your eyes at the glorious sensation, your cunt throbbing with each thrust. You’re so wet, he almost slips from your walls each time he rolls his hips into yours.

“Fuck━ Want you to ride me,” he rasps at some point. “Show me how your pussy belongs to me. Can you do that for me?”

You nod blindly. You try not to whine at the sudden loss of contact when he pulls out of you, the tip of his cock glistening with both of your leaking cum mingling together, the sticky strands pulling apart midair as he fumbles. Soon, he has you straddling his lap, sinking onto his dick once more. You grip his shoulders this time, bouncing on him as he buries his face in your chest.

A sudden thought has him groaning aloud. “Your brother’s gonna fucking hate me.”

“I thought he said you talked things over,” You gasp. “That everything’s okay.”

“I don’t mean that,” Taehyung’s head rolls back, eyes squeezing shut. “He’s gonna murder me if he ever catches us like this.”

“Think he knows it happens by now,” You giggle. You moan when you drop your hips on him completely, swiveling around his dick.

“Still don’t think that means he wants to see us making love on the couch in your apartment. Not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you,” Taehyung points out. Then, adding hastily, “Fuck it. Can we not talk about your brother? It’s killing the mood.”

Another delightful chuckle bubbles from your lips though it’s quick to dissolve into a splintered cry as his dick angles upwards into you.

Your back arches until your chest is pressed against his. It’s almost embarrassing how fast the two of you become complete shambles, a sticky mess forming between your legs. It comes to that point where you don’t care about being careful and where you decide to adopt such a reckless pace, fucking yourself on him, your breasts bouncing wildly before him. Taehyung moans and eagerly latches his mouth on one of your breasts, sucking hard.

“Taehyung,” You whine. “I’m not gonna last.”

He hums against you, pulling you closer to his mouth and chest and wrapping you in his heat, as if to urge you on. Your mewls and whimpers ring in Taehyung’s ears as beautiful sounding as the music that plays in the background. You begin to give out, your tiredness mingling with the intensity of pleasure, and you collapse against Taehyung’s chest, huffing for air. He quickly replaces your efforts, grabbing your hips tightly and plummeting his upwards into yours so hard that you feel each thrust shake you to the core. You know you’ll have bruises in the morning but you don’t mind. You’re leaning entirely against Taehyung now, your arms wrapping around his neck, as cries of his name and choked whimpers continue to tear from your throat and mouth.

“F-Fuck!” You cry. “Taehyung, faster━ oh my god, please━”

Your pleas drown out when one long moan escapes you. You can feel the muscles in your core tighten and loosen in a constant battle that has your head swimming in a good way, your heart pounding in your chest. Taehyung grits his teeth, focusing on bringing you to your high, and, before you are able to even comprehend what’s happening, you’re toppling over the edge. You’re still on top of Taehyung, whimpering profusely and crying his name in a beautiful mantra as your high shakes you from head to toe.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” Taehyung hisses. “Cum for me. Cream all over my dick. You love it, don’t you? Love having me fill you up like this?”

“Yes, oh my god, Tae, yes━ faster, please━”

Taehyung obliges, sweat forming on his forehead. He feels you squeeze around him so tight that he fumbles for a second, sputtering for air. Then, he feels your cum pulsate out of you, leaking down his length. You’re instantly floating up high with the stars, relishing in your high and the way Taehyung rides it out as he also fights for his own sweet release. As your hips come to a stutter, he grips at your waist and pummels his dick up into your aching pussy.

His tongue continues to lav lazily at your jawline and, by the time he reaches his own high, you are beginning to cringe from the sensitivity. Yet, you hold on, pushing away the slight sting as you help coax him to his high, squeezing your muscles around him. He cums moments later, releasing into you warm and wet, crying your name.

“Fuck, Y/N━ Gonna fill you up, baby, just how you like it━”

He rams his hips up into yours for one final effort, shuddering in elation as his cock twitches every last drop of cum from it. Then, both breathless and panting, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, you slump against his chest, resting your forehead against his. The car instantly goes silent and the foreground music that was the radio comes to once more. You listen to the soft lyrics as the two of you bask in the afterglow of sex and he kisses you all over.

You don’t know how much time passes as the two of you lay there, his hands rubbing comforting circles on your hips as your own fingers trace the tattoos that ink his skin.

“You know━” Taehyung speaks up eventually, his voice a low mumble. “Gonna be extra hard not to be late getting to gigs now.”

“Uh oh.” You roll your eyes. “Think we’ve got all the time in the world now for sex, Tae.”

Taehyung grins. “I was thinking more about the fact that I’m not gonna want to get out of bed in the morning, whenever you fall asleep beside me.”

Your heart swells at his confession and you peck his cheek quickly before burying your face in the crook of his neck. It’s his own serenade of sorts, his small promise in the backseat of his car, that makes it all okay in the end.

“And,” Taehyung admits cheekily this time, “knowing we don’t have to keep us a secret anymore, even to ourselves━ I'm definitely not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you now.”

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[outerbankies]

You know how teenager rafe is gonna just be spiralling over reader going to prom with someone else? I’m going to cry cause like he’s a baby and he doesn’t know why he has these feeling for this one person that he’s always kind of orbited around?? And he knows she’s it for him but only deep down cause he’s trying to figure so much out and how could you know who you’re going to end up with at the age of 17 let alone 10 or 12 but he’s always known and aaaaah imagine that kind of love

an angsty little pre-series prom blurb partially inspired by this ^ ask that made me spiralll. thanks anon i hope u like this!

—

new light blurb: before we knew — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

obv takes place pre-series in high school! referenced in part 1

warnings: underage drinking

“Top, it’s not fucking funny.”

“It’s kinda fucking funny, Y/n/n. Like, way more than a little.”

Rafe had ditched the last fifteen minutes of statistics when he finished his test early today, and he’d been messing around on his phone for ten minutes waiting for the rest of you to come and get in Topper’s Jeep so you could all go to lunch off-campus today.

Rafe stands up straight from where he’d been leaning against the hood when he hears your voice approaching, his smile matching yours once you see him. “Hey, Rafe. How did your stats test go?”

“Good, hey, Y/n. What’s not funny?” he asks, opening the passenger side door for you before sliding into the backseat behind you.

“Oh, get this, Rafe,” Topper says, laughing. You just groan again, clicking your seatbelt on. “Griffin is gonna ask Y/n to prom. Tomorrow.”

Rafe blanches. “Griffin?”

He knew Griffin thought you were hot. Certainly had to hear it enough times in the pool at practice every day. Rafe always found himself biting back a remark—well, almost always. As captain, Rafe was able to tell everyone to run another play whenever he felt like it. The extra exertion in the pool was nothing compared to having to tread water and hear his teammate talk about you like that.

But even after all of that, he still had no idea Griffin had the balls to actually make a move on you. Because Rafe could tell you’d seriously rather die than ever give Griffin the time of day. And Griffin had been pursuing you without luck for months, even though you’d been trying to gently show you weren’t interested. Half of the time, Rafe wished you'd just tell him to fuck off.

The other half of the time, Rafe was considering just doing it for you.

Rafe clears his throat after his outburst, a finger digging into a hole in his jeans. “How do you know?”

“He just told me in PE,” Topper says. “He said he has this huge banner, and speakers, and he’s gonna do it at lunch right in the middle of the quad—”

“Topper.” You cut him off a bit more seriously this time; Rafe can hear the shift in your tone. You've always hated being anywhere close to the center of attention, getting embarrassed by the smallest things others wouldn’t even think about. If Griffin actually knew anything about you the way Rafe does, he’d know you wouldn’t like something big and flashy. “Can you stop?”

“Hey, cut it out, Top,” Rafe is saying immediately. Topper just rolls his eyes, but Rafe doesn’t care. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Rafe,” you say, smiling over your shoulder at him. “M’fine.”

“Do you want me to tell Griffin to—”

Topper laughs from the driver’s seat, clearing his throat to cover it up when you look over at him. You look back at Rafe, and his heart breaks at the worry in your face. “Don’t, Rafe.”

“Are you gonna say yes?”

“No,” you immediately laugh, looking at him like the idea is preposterous.

“Oh c’mon, Y/n/n. Can’t say no to him in front of all those people,” Topper teases. “And where the fuck is Kelce? I’m starving.”

“You’re right,” you sigh. “I don’t wanna embarrass him. I’ll just find him after school today and tell him I’m going with Kelce.”

Topper’s eyes widen, Rafe catches it in the rearview mirror before he hurriedly looks away. Rafe clears his throat, settling back into his seat from where he’d been leaning into the front space to talk with you. “You—uh, are you actually going with Kelce?”

“Yeah,” you nod, distracted by your phone. “We said we’d go together if we didn’t find dates. Kelce didn’t really wanna ask anyone after what happened last summer. And after nearly being set up with Top last night, I’m about ready to throw in the towel.“

Rafe looks to his friend that sits in the driver’s seat, who's looking straight at his lap, the back of his neck bright red. “Wait, you two?”

“It was just our parents, dude. Went to dinner at the club last night and our moms brought it up,” Topper mumbles. You giggle at the idea, completely unaware of the energy in the car right now.

“Yeah, sorry, Thornton. But no thanks. You and Emily should be really cute, though,” you say earnestly, patting his shoulder.

Topper just stares straight ahead. “Thanks, Y/n/n.”

“And then this thing with Griffin—I’m just so over the idea of finding an actual date at this point,” you sigh. “Plus, I know Kelce won’t put up a fight about the color scheme. I’m thinking like, aqua. Or maybe pink? I don't think I'd look good in gold.”

You'll look good in absolutely anything, and Rafe will just have to watch you from across the floor of the Island Club, while Kelce twirls you around the dance floor or holds you close during a slow dance.

The guy in question opens the car door and slides into the backseat next to Rafe right then, sighing as he slides his backpack off. “Sorry guys, coach stopped me in the hall. Where are we eating?”

Rafe glares at him.

“I want a smoothie,” you declare from the front seat.

“Fine with me,” Topper nods, pulling out of his parking spot. “Guys?”

“Can we go to that place with the deli next door? I’m so hungry,” Kelce says.

“Yeah, I like their açaí bowls,” you say, twisting around to look at Rafe one more time. He must not be able to hide his emotions as much as he thought, because your smile drops when you see him. “Rafe? Does that sound good?”

He turns his body to look out the window, eyes flicking back to yours one last time. “Not hungry.”

—

Rafe meets Topper and Kelce at the dock later that night, the three of them intending to get drunk and maybe take Topper’s boat out if they felt like it.

Kelce is already there by the time Rafe pulls up, drinking a beer with Topper while they laugh at something on his phone.

And Rafe paces right down the dock, snatches Kelce’s phone out of his hand, and pushes him off the platform and into the water.

“Rafe, dude,” Topper says, immediately pushing him back by his chest.

“What the fuck?” Kelce sputters, spitting out water as he surfaces and climbs the ladder back up. “What is your fucking problem?”

“You couldn’t ask literally fucking anyone else? It had to be Y/n?” Rafe says, laughing indignantly. He looks down at where Topper is still keeping them separated. “And you—what the fuck—”

“I told you, man. It was just our moms. We didn’t even consider it,” Topper says, rolling his eyes.

“You both lied to me,” Rafe accuses. “Because you knew I’d be mad.”

“And why’s that, Rafe?” Kelce spits, reaching around Topper to try and push at his chest. “Why are you mad? Not like you were gonna ask her.”

“No,” Rafe says immediately. And he isn’t even lying; it’d never crossed his mind as a possibility. Which is why he can’t even begin to try and work out why he’s this upset about it. He didn’t do anything to stop this, but it’s still happening, and it’s making him crazy. “You know my dad’s making me take Reagan since we’re both on prom court.”

“That’s what I thought,” Kelce grumbles. “I was gonna tell you.”

“When?”

“Soon, I just—we made the plan so long ago, bro. Neither of us wanted to worry about dates… but I gave it time because I thought you might—I dunno,” Kelce trails off, shrugging. “I dunno.”

“Thought I might what?”

“Figure your shit out and ask her yourself,” Topper says, coming back from the boathouse with a towel that he passes to Kelce.

“Even if I could, Y/n/n would never say yes to me,” Rafe scoffs, shaking his head and reaching for the six-pack they were working through.

Topper scoffs back. “Oh, yeah ri—”

“Guess we’ll never know,” Kelce says, cutting him off while he dumps the water out of his shoes. He sighs at his soaked clothes before he looks back up at Rafe. “You know I’m not into her right? We’re just going as friends. It’s senior prom.”

“Why would I care what you’re going as?” Rafe says, shifting in discomfort, hand clutching his already-half-empty beer can a little tighter. “None of it even matters.”

“Whatever you wanna tell yourself, bro,” Kelce sighs, grabbing his phone out of Rafe’s hand and pushing past him to go change.

—

“Nice taste, Y/l/n.”

You whirl around from where you’d been adjusting Kelce’s boutonnière (you’d only pricked him twice, which was a personal record for you) at the sound of Rafe’s voice, plastering on a smile before you face him. Your eyes drop to his attire immediately. “Oh shit, Rafe. We match.”

“I know,” he laughs. “My step-mom wants a picture.”

You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in your heels, the tule of your dress suddenly itchy against your legs. “Um. Shouldn’t you take one with Reagan?”

“We already took a million. From every angle. With every possible fucking pose,” Rafe sighs. “C’mon, please? Before the limo comes.”

Rafe grabs your hand and you look back at Kelce who just nods, downing some champagne. “Take care of my date, Cameron.”

You can see Rafe just shake his head where you trail behind him, leading you back to where Rose is talking to one of the other moms. “There you are. Your dress is beautiful! I wish we'd found one like that for Reagan. It looks great with Rafe's tuxedo.”

“Uh, yeah. It's nice to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” you say politely, ignoring the last half of what she said completely. She pulls up her phone and Rafe’s bringing you into his side, his hand resting in the middle of your back.

“This okay?” he murmurs, his breath fanning over your neck as he leans down.

“Yep,” you say quickly, but you can’t help but look around and catch multiple of your friends watching you, including Reagan, who promptly rolls her eyes once you make eye contact with her.

“Y/n, sweetie, just a few pictures for the newsletter,” Rose says, reminding you of your purpose right now.

“Right, sorry,” you say.

“Hey,” Rafe whispers. You look up at him, feeling his hand bring you closer to his body. “Take this a little more seriously, Y/l/n. Don’t you know that the next issue of the Island Club newsletter will be completely ruined without this one specific photo, that will probably be squished into the corner of a terribly- edited collage?”

You laugh in surprise, hitting him on his chest for joking about his step-mom right in front of her. “Rafe. Be nice.”

He just grins down at you, before straightening up and turning back to the camera. “If I’m nice, will you save a dance for me later tonight?”

You’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore, because then he’d see the way your smile faltered before you turn back to the camera as well. “Sure.”

—

“How is my flask empty?” Kelce groans, tipping it over and shaking it out for emphasis.

“That’s what happens when you drink it all, bud,” you laugh, patting his shoulder. He rolls his eyes at you, linking his arm in yours as you both pass through the crowd to find Topper and his date, Emily. You all watch Rafe up on stage, waiting to inevitably be crowned prom king.

He was a shoo-in anyway, but you’d definitely distracted your English teacher with a conversation about the 1984 essay you just turned in while Topper and Kelce stuffed the ballot box he was meant to be guarding.

Rafe seemed like he couldn’t care less about stuff like prom court, just shaking his head when his name was announced over the speaker as a nominee three weeks ago at lunch.

And he’d dragged his feet through finding a date, just shrugging whenever you brought it up to him, prying partially for your own sake.

You couldn’t figure out why he seemed so averse to the entire event, but you supposed that was better than having to hear him go on and on about Reagan and how he asked her and what corsage he bought for her and if he was bringing her to after-prom—or anything else that would’ve dragged up some feelings you thought you’d firmly buried at this point, telling yourself for years that you never stood a chance with Rafe.

But the closer graduation got, the more you’ve been realizing that things with your friends would never be the same. Things with Rafe would never be the same.

“Kildare Academy, your prom king is Rafe Cameron,” the DJ says, snapping you out of your thoughts. Kelce and Topper cheer obnoxiously while you laugh, a little grateful they’re both drunk and distracted—so happy their plan worked (Rafe subtly flips them off behind his back as he’s crowned) that they can’t notice the way your shoulders slump as Rafe leads Reagan, just crowned queen, out to the middle of the dance floor while some Ed Sheeran song starts playing through the speakers. You’d roll your eyes at the terrible music selection if that was what you could focus on.

All you could focus on was wondering if Rafe would even remember that you promised him a dance tonight.

Kelce is dramatically bringing you into his arms as the prom court dance takes place, subtly turning you around so your back faces the stage and the court, smiling as he holds your waist. “C’mon, dance with me.”

—

Rafe’s letting go of Reagan as soon as the song ends and everybody cheers, dashing off to the DJ booth after telling her he’d be back in a bit. She merely shrugged before adjusting her crown and going off to some friends.

“Hey man, can I pull some prom king privilege right now?” he says, leaning in to speak into the guys’ ear. “I have a song request.”

“Playlist is set, approved by the school,” he says dismissively.

“Thought you might say that,” Rafe grumbles, reaching into his breast pocket before he can take the time to wonder if he’s really going to do this—if he’s really going to bribe the DJ to play a song by your favorite band before he goes to cash in on that dance together that you’d promised.

He hands him a crisp hundred.

The DJ sighs, snatching it out of his hand and pocketing it while Rafe smirks in victory. “Alright, what song, country club?”

And then it's practically a race to find you before the Kid Cudi remix currently playing ends. Rafe heads off in the direction where Topper and Kelce had been yelling when he was on stage, evening his pace when he spots you jumping around with Kelce, your dress fanning around you while you laugh, the string lights illuminating your face.

You’re smiling so big that it stops Rafe in his tracks.

Guys had always shown interest in you, and you turned most of them down. Not all of them; Rafe still had to see you with guys who absolutely did not deserve you giving them the time of day, sometimes at parties or maybe at the Club. Rafe could usually lie to himself, write off these feelings as some protectiveness over you, a nice girl who’d been a good friend to him his entire life. Rafe was protective of all the people he held close in his life, why wouldn’t he look out for you, too?

But something must have changed, because now—now Rafe’s looking at you, and he knows time is running out before you both set off on your futures. He has three weeks of school left with you, then a summer of seeing you around. And then... that's it.

And now he’s looking at you, those feelings less and less ignorable with every single second closer Rafe gets to not having you around him every day anymore.

Those feelings are crowding every corner of his mind, finally coming to the surface after all of the drama with prom dates had forced Rafe to wonder why he couldn’t stand you going with Griffin or Topper or Kelce. Couldn’t stand thinking about you ever being with someone that wasn’t him—a reality he knows he’d have to get used to you a lot quicker than it took him to even realize he’d fallen for you.

Because the future’s coming, and maybe in the future you actually end up with someone like Griffin, or Mateo, or that guy from the party that one time, or that touron from New England that your parents tried to set you up with, some hotshot you brought home from California after a semester, or Kelce—even Topper. Your parents would love that one. And one day in this future, you’re running into Rafe on the soccer field; your kids play for the same team together. Rafe ended up settling for someone he could never like half as much as he loved you, and he sees you across the field with a sweater tied around your shoulders, chatting with all of the other moms. The lucky asshole you finally chose just watches you the way Rafe always had, the way he is now as you dance with his best friend, the way Rafe will probably never be able to stop himself from doing.

Or maybe there's another future without you, where you move away to somewhere that suits you; the Outer Banks had never good enough for you, in his mind. Maybe you stay in California after school. And you bring home that hotshot that’s perfectly matched for you, who gets to hold you and kiss you and have you. Rafe only gets to see you every once in a while, when you decide to grace the Outer Banks with your presence for the holidays or for Midsummers. Maybe in this scenario, Rafe was never able to find someone else, maybe he shows up solo while you flash your engagement ring when the old crew gets together for drinks—no, you wouldn’t do that. You’d be absolutely smitten with whoever won your heart, showing the ring he got you to your girl friends with an embarrassed little smile pulling at your lips while they all gush over it. And maybe one of your friends jokes about how Rafe used to have a crush on you. You'll just laugh and shrug it off, nodding—because you knew all along. Of course you knew, everyone had to know at this point. And Rafe can picture you merely laughing at his feelings for you as the other guy gets to pull you closer on his lap.

The opening chords of your song snap him out of his reverie. He can see the exact moment you realize what song it is.

Rafe beelines for you, holding his hand out as soon as he’s in your vicinity, fully pretending he hadn’t just realized he’s fallen for one of his closest friends in the middle of prom. Like he hadn't realized that he wasn't just into you, didn't just think you were cute or like the way you made him feel when you remembered his stats tests or wore his shirt to his water polo games. Like he hadn't just realized that no matter how many times he'd told himself it didn't bother him that much that you'd never come close to giving him the time of day, that he'd never forget what it felt like to not even be on your radar.

“You promised me a dance, Y/n.”

You look at him and his outstretched hand and smile, then look back to Kelce, who's quickly letting you out of his arms, casting an accusatory glance at Rafe. But then he smiles a little. “I'm gonna hit the restrooms.”

“Too bad our one dance is gonna be to a song by a band you hate,” you laugh, accepting Rafe's hand. Rafe’s on autopilot, his hands resting on your lower back while yours move to his chest, swaying the two of you in little circles. The song is already through with the first verse.

“I don’t hate this band,” he lies. But maybe it’s not a lie—how could he hate anything you loved?

“Okay, prom king,” you laugh, fiddling with his pocket square a little, the one that matches your dress. “Still can’t believe we ended up matching.”

“Great minds, Y/l/n,” he shrugs, eyes trained on your face. Your hands slip up around his shoulders, and you nudge the plastic crown on his head before leaving your arms to rest there, fingers locked behind his neck. Rafe pulls you closer. The second chorus was already starting up. Time was running out.

“I’m not sure what the optics are of our matching and you leaving the prom queen to come dance with your friend,” you say, your small smile turning into a frown. “Reagan already seemed pissed earlier.”

“Don’t worry about her,” Rafe says. “It’s just you and me right now.”

“When we go off to college, I think I might just miss you, Cameron,” you say, smiling.

And Rafe might not ever get to tell you how he feels, or ever be with you the way he wants to, but at least he got to dance with you at his senior prom.

“I know I'm gonna miss you.”

—

@moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids @fangirlvoice @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @pogueslandia @loveylangdon @oopsiedoopsie23 @sodasback @rafeseggplant @cooper8224 @rafeyybabyy @lemur46 @cameronsrafe @theepoguelandia @judayyyw @irlpadfoot @synonymforlame @tinawhynot @mildkleptomaniac @ilymarkchan @sofiatheseconf @hockeyshmockey @supersouthy @coffeeandcrimeshows @emptyloverofmine @infinitleyethereal @nerdypartytrashpsychic @mrs-cameron @tcmhollnd @nicavass @sakikos @catonthesideoftheroad @jemimah-b99 @serrendipiity @depressinq @svechnibrock @julianakawaja @ctrlcherries @lostaurorax @wildflower98 @babygirl2022 @lieswithoutfairytales @painlesslies @messagesinthesky @orrsoared @destourtereaux @sammywilscn @tylernagle @anonymousobxfan @lilacsandwhiskey @raphaelcameron @mardema @princesspogue @alwaysclassyeagle @brittlehe-art @drewswrld

[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 

[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 13 - The Sixth Year (Part Three)

My dear friend @abimess, I keep stealing your gifs and making updates without telling you. I hope you never get tired of it.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. || Chapter Warnings: Magical torture with minors, cursing, angst, ptsd, derogatory thoughts and behavior, dark magic.

Chapter Words: 8.486 K

A/N> Yes, I've gone for a month without warning anyone, and yes that might go on, but at least i'm near ending this (I'm already writing chapter 21). Once I'm finished, I'll just programe tumblr to upload them all for me because i'm lazy. I hope anyone like this yet, i don't even know what i'm doing anymore. Good reading!

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Chapter 13 - Part XIII - The Sixth Year (Part Three)

Gossip really starts to irritate you when you go to lunch after potions.

"You want to say something to me, girl?" You charge impatiently when you hear the giggles behind you again, coming from a group of students sitting at Ravenclaw's table.

The group turns around with wry smiles on their faces, and you notice the editions of the Daily Prophet in the hand of one of the boys. It is Hope Summers, your classmate, who speaks first:

"We're just sharing some theories, Stark." She says in a provocative tone. "Some of us find it an interesting coincidence that just now that Mephisto is back, you and Maximoff are losing control of magic."

You frown.

"What are you talking about?" you ask in surprise, referring to Wanda, but Hope thinks you want her to keep mocking you.

"It's just suspicious that no one knows what happened to you in that dungeon, or at the ministry of magic." Hope counters. "And now you two are blowing things up, and we have a dark wizard on the loose."

"Fuck you, Summmers." You curse as you stand up, leaving the girl in shock at your aggressiveness.

The same auror from the first day stands in front of you as you try to approach Slytherin's table.

"Students must respect..."

But you interrupted his speech with a loud shove that sent him staggering backwards, and drew the immediate attention of several people.

You were seeing red by now, the man's wry smile only making you more irritated.

He drew his wand, but so did you. And the room held its breath.

"Put your wand away, Miss Stark." Warned the auror angrily, but you didn't.

Wanda stood up as she noticed the confusion, rushing to reach you, but the auror put his arm in her way.

"Now, miss." He warned again, and you grunted in irritation.

"Get your hands off her." You retorted, feeling your body fever with hatred.

"Stark." The man said, his arm reaching down to push Wanda back, and you exploded.

You didn't even finish thinking about the spell, the magic exploding out of your wand.

The auror masterfully blocked it, and you dropped your wand to jump on top of him.

It was a confusion of shoving, other bigger students pulling you away from the man and he away from you.

" Never fucking touch her again!" You warned snorting in anger, Thor Odinson stopping you from jumping on the man's neck.

"I just pushed her away from the line of fire, you crazy bitch!" The auror retorted indignantly and angrily. "Go to the headmaster's office now!"

"Fuck you!"

Thor pulled you out of the hall as the crowd of students whistled in celebration, excited about the whole fight. The auror was too busy dissipating everyone to follow you.

"Hey, hothead, calm down." The blonde warned as he released the grip of you by the courtyard. You grunted angrily, wishing you could break something.

"Fuck this school, fuck that asshole." You complained aloud, as Thor looked at you curiously.

"You have quite a rage, Stark." He comments, and you grumble in irritation.

But Wanda catches up with you the next moment, and she looks even angrier than you.

"What the hell was that?" she asks and you roll your eyes, running your hands through your hair.

"I think you are going to be fine for now on." Thor comments, smiling at the thank you Wanda says to him before leaving you two alone.

"So?" Wanda insists, arms crossed. You bite the inside of your cheek as you look at her.

"What do you want me to say?" You retort angrily.

"You just started a fight for no reason! Again!" She accuses. "Only this time it was with a wizard who could kill you. I want to know what's going on!"

"I don't know, Wanda!" You exclaim angrily. "Why does everyone expect me to have answers? I don't know! Do you understand that? It feels like I'm going to explode in frustration any second, neither you or Gamora seem to get it. I don't understand what's happening to me!"

"Because you won't talk to us!" She shouts back, just as annoyed as you are. "You're pushing everyone away! Even me! We can't help you if you don't talk to us!"

You grunt impatiently, turning around. There was a strange throbbing in the back of your head, a strange whisper. Like a voice telling you that no one was telling you the truth, that your friends expected too much of you, that Wanda didn't care...

This last thought made you sob. Wanda softened her expression immediately, taking a step toward you and touching your shoulder, but you pulled away from her touch as if burned, wiping your tears away quickly.

"Leave me alone, Wanda." You mutter between teeth. She hesitates, raising her hand toward you again.

"Please."

"I need some time from you." You insist, pushing her hand away, and walking away.

A part of your brain is begging you to go back and make things right, but there is a cloud of anger and irritation that keeps you walking.

//-//-//-//-//

You roll over in bed in discomfort.

Nightmares. Again.

It has only been five days since you had your fight with Wanda, and you are getting worse every day.

With Summers' teasing, you end up noticing other things too.

How the school really found the theory that you and Wanda were somehow related to Mephisto, because the minister had covered up what happened in the dungeons and in the ministry, and everybody thought it was strange that two students were showing an increase in magical potential with the return of a dark wizard.

Unlike you, who were failing considerably in any simple execution of spells, Wanda was demonstrating exceptional abilities. Kaecilius was more than willing to make her the face of progress at Hogwarts, you heard the gossip about bringing in reporters to share the news of the new direction.

You know that the only reason Wanda hasn't come after you yet was because you're running away from her like the plague.

And you couldn't even explain why.

You were also blocking out your real health condition from her. Just like you two practiced during the summer.

Besides hiding this from Wanda, you have kept your friends away too, isolating yourself from everyone else in search of a little rest, only succeeding in taking a nap when you are running away between classes.

And the detentions with Kaecilius keep increasing as you skip classes.

You begin to consider learning to write with a different hand, just so the bruise has time to heal, but at this point you don't even care about the scar anymore.

"You really must like pain." Loki teases wryly as you sit in an empty room, waiting for the aurors' shift change again after your detention.

You don't ask him what he's doing on that floor again, and he doesn't ask why you haven't spoken to your friends in two weeks.

"Sure, that must be it." You joke back, massaging your injured hand.

He assumes a pensive expression for a second.

"Are you sure you haven't been cursed by someone?" He asks, causing you to frown in shock and confusion.

"Excuse me?"

He gives a little chuckle, settling himself better against the wall.

"Everyone's been talking about you being sick." He says. "I heard some of the Ravenclaw people theorize that you became a werewolf over the summer."

You laugh helplessly, massaging your temples lightly.

"I guarantee that's not it." You say making Loki smile.

"If you are sick for no reason, it could be a curse." He says. "I wouldn't be surprised, the way things are."

"But how do I find out if I've been cursed?"

Loki takes a thoughtful stance.

"I don't know." He says. "But I'm sure you can learn that in the no longer reserved session of the library."

You laugh at the joke, but soon you both return to silence. When that hallway's shift ends, Loki sighs, getting up and helping you to stand.

"Still can't perform spells?" He asks, already drawing his wand.

"Only if I want to blow things up." You scoff making him laugh.

"Fine, I'll enchant you." He says. When you are transparent, he looks at you with an amused expression. "See you next Saturday, troublemaker?

"Don't worry, I plan on skipping DADA, maybe I'll be here tomorrow." You retort in the same tone before turning to leave.

//-////-//-//-//-//

It takes three more days for Wanda to finally corner you.

You are skipping class in an empty room on the seventh floor, trying to doze off, and almost fall out of your chair with fright when the door opens and Wanda comes in, looking annoyed.

You grunt impatiently, without lifting your face from the desk.

"I told you I needed time." You complain, but tense up when you notice the tears in her eyes as she moves closer to sit at the table next to yours.

" You want to break up with me?" She asks in a whisper and you raise your head immediately, feeling your chest tighten.

"What? What are you talking about?"

Wanda gives a humorless laugh at your expression. "Why are you acting like this is an absurd idea? You've disappeared. You've been avoiding me, not even talking to me anymore."

You shake your head quickly, feeling the urge to cry.

"I don't want to break up with you." You say. "I..I would never want to be away from you."

"You just said you need time away from me." Wanda retorts with annoyance, and you feel your stomach clench as she sighs. "I don't know what's going on with us. And I miss you, but you won't let me near you."

You are exhausted. So you cry.

You rest your head on your arms, and let your sobs fill the silence, hoping that the tears will take this bad feeling away.

It's Wanda's gentle touch on your back that helps.

"Babe, tell me what's wrong." She whispers to you, her tone concerned.

It takes many minutes for you to calm down. But when you do, Wanda holds your hand, kneeling on the floor beside the chair you are in.

"I can't do magic." You breathlessly tell her from crying, "And I can't sleep. I've been sick for weeks, and I'm angry all the time. Healer Cho doesn't know what's wrong with me, but everyone at school seems to have a theory about it. I think I'm going to suffocate, Wanda. I'm messing everything up. Between us, between my family, and at school." You sob as you finish and Wanda shakes her head, her hand coming up to your cheek.

"Don't say that." She urges. "You didn't ruin anything. Hey, look at me. I love you. Your sisters love you, your friends love you. We'll figure out what's going on."

Wanda hugs you tight, and you sob, shaking.

You want to believe her words, so you push the intrusive thoughts away, and believe it.

//-//-//-//

Wanda takes you to a door in that same floor you two were before, but you have never seen that door until that moment.

And you are very surprised to realize that it is a bedroom.

"How...?" You ask confused as she closes the it.

"Welcome to the Room of Requirement." She says with a smile, pulling you by the hand around. "We hold our Avengers meetings here." She counters and you frown.

"In a bedroom? Interesting choice." You comment and she giggles.

"No, my love." She says. "That's how this room works. It is charmed to meet your needs. That's why I asked you to come in first."

"Oh, that's pretty cool." You say looking around. Wanda smiles at you, and then you both reach the bed. "The room thinks I have to sleep?"

"I do too." Wanda retorts, pushing your shoulders gently for you to sit on the bed. "Go on, nice dreams."

You hesitate. "You gonna leave me here alone?"

Wanda denies with her head, pointing to the chair that probably just magically appeared next to the bed. You frown.

"Can't you sleep in the bed with me?"

She giggles. "We don't have much time for you to sleep. If I lie down, you'll want to kiss me. So I'll be sitting in that armchair, studying as I should." She explains seriously, and you pout.

"Stupid rules." You grumble moving your hands up to her waist. "Lie down with me."

"Babe..."

"Please."

Wanda sighs, then nods. You smile, quickly removing your shoes as she does the same. You quickly adjust yourself on the bed, opening your arms for her to lie on top of you, and she gives a little giggle before doing so.

"Are you cozy, sweetheart?" You murmur against her hair, and Wanda squeezes her arms around you.

"Yeah, your boobs are good pillows." She teases, making you laugh with reddened cheeks.

Your eyes begin to heavy quickly, fatigue catching up with your body relaxed by the comfort of the moment.

"Go to sleep, babe." Wanda whispers. "I'll be here when you wake up."

You smile with your eyes closed, surrendering.

It's the best sleep you've had in weeks.

The problem is that as soon as you start to wake up again, you are feeling sick.

You touch the emptiness in the bed, mumbling softly. When you open your eyes you find Wanda sitting in the armchair, the darkhold in her lap.

"Damn it, Wanda, this book again." You complain in a hoarse voice, but she just sighs.

"Why the attitude?"

"I hate that book." You grumble sitting up in bed, massaging your face lightly. "Why do you keep reading it anyway?"

"It's interesting." She says, closing the item to look at you. "Agatha really told me a lot, but there are also things I didn't know."

"For example?"

Wanda bites her lips, appraising you.

"Scarlet witches are forged, for instance." She says and you frown in confusion. Wanda sighs. "Many powerful witches, born scarlet witches, never got to fulfill their destiny because the forging didn't happen."

You straighten your clothes uncomfortably, pensively.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"What the headmistress did last year was my forging." She clarifies and you swallow dryly, feeling your stomach turn. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" you ask confused.

"Everything." She says upset. "I know we've talked about this, but it seems like all I do is cause you problems. With the bond, and with the forge. If Agatha didn't want my powers, she wouldn't have taken you to the dungeon and you wouldn't have suffered."

You poke at the knot of your tie, feeling yourself suffocate slightly. Wanda is speaking, you blink to focus on her words.

"I'm sorry, could you say that again?" You ask out of breath, sweating. You blink to find Wanda's concerned gaze on you.

"Babe, what's wrong?" She asks worriedly, her hands around your face.

You feel your head spin, and everything goes dark before you can answer.

//-//-//-//

You smell the scent of grass when you wake up.

Then you blink in confusion, getting used to your surroundings to realize that you are in what looks like a ward bed.

"Hey, all right, take it easy getting up, Miss Stark." Asked Professor Strange with one hand on her shoulder. In the other he held a potion that you imagined he had given you.

"W-what happened?" you mumbled confusedly, sitting up in bed. Only now did you notice Professor Munroe and Wanda standing in front of the bed, both with worried expressions.

"You passed out, but you're better now I imagine." Stephen explained gently, but you were still feeling very weak.

"Professor, she simply blacked out." Wanda commented in a tearful voice. " Don't you have any idea what's wrong?"

Stephen sighed, and then pointed at the chair, the darkhold.

"Where did you get that book?" He asked, and Wanda frowned, taking a step toward the chair in a defensive posture.

"What does that have to do with my question?" she retorted dryly, and Stephen looked at you one last time before standing up.

"There's a reason it's called the Book of the Damned, Miss Maximoff." He says."It damns its readers."

"That's ridiculous." Wanda retorted, crossing her arms. "I've been reading it for weeks and nothing has happened."

"Not with you."

Wanda hesitates, widening her eyes. And then she takes a step back, swallowing her cry as she reaches out to grab the book and hand it to Stephen.

She turns her gaze back to you, and lets the tears fall.

"I am truly sorry." She says with a mixture of guilt and shame before turning to leave the room.

You call out to her about three times, but she leaves and you don't have the strength to go after her.

"Damn, couldn't I have said that in a different way?" You complain angrily to Stephen, who just sighs, exchanging a look with Professor Munroe. "How come you two are here anyway?"

"It was Wanda." Professor Ororo replies. "She asked the room for someone trustworthy to help her with you. Then there was a door opening in the potions room. Stephen was there with me, and we both came."

"Great." You mutter annoyed, thinking about how you are going to talk to Wanda and convince her that you were not angry with her. "Would either of you happen to know how to make me better now?"

"Sure." Stephen comments by raising the book in the air, and with a wave of his hand, the item dissolves into several pieces until it is gone. "I didn't destroy it, if that's what you're thinking. I just put it away, to prevent something like that from happening again."

"Congratulations." You grumble wryly as you straighten up in bed, the same migraine from before is now weaker, but it's still there.

"You know, you had a better attitude when you didn't have a magical doom on your spirit." Stephen complains, causing you to frown, but Professor Ororo gives a chuckle.

"Thanks professor." You comment wryly, making him laugh. He sits back down beside your bed, and pulls out of the cover a small notebook.

"Now that Miss Maximoff has stopped reading the book, I suppose you will get better." Stephen says, making you sigh.

"You suppose? That's encouraging." You say moving to stand up.

"Where are you going, Miss Stark? You need to rest." Warn the professor, but you ignore him, and ignore the weakness in your body as well.

"What I need, Strange, is for people to stop lying to me."

"No one is lying, Miss Stark." Professor Ororo states next. "We really don't know the extent of the magic the darkhold carries."

"And why is that I imagine?" You sneer. "Because someone omitted the truth from you, and it's been passed down for generations, isn't it? Well, that's over now. Because we've finally studied everything in this place, including a book that condemns anyone who reads it." You exclaim impatiently, stooping down to put on your shoes. "If you two will excuse me, I'll figure out how to get better on my own. But first I'm going to explain to my girlfriend that none of this is her fault."

Ororo and Stephen are silent, but you wouldn't have been paying attention to anything they said anyway.

Soon you are up and out of the requirement room looking for Wanda.

//-//-//-//

She seems to have disappeared from the castle, so you must concentrate to use your instincts.

The hardest part is dodging the aurors, but you finally reach the astronomy tower.

You're a little out of breath from the run, but it's the image of Wanda standing on the edge, the sunlight in her hair that leaves you breathless.

"Hi." You say in a low tone, your hands in your pockets as you approach. She startles slightly, wiping away tears as she keeps her gaze forward.

"What do you want here?" she asks in a husky voice. You sigh.

"That you stop hating yourself and listen to me." You say and she lets out a short laugh.

"And what do you think you can say?" She questions turning her body toward you. "All I do is hurt you."

You shake your head, but Wanda lets out a tearful laugh.

"No you don't understand." She says. "Since I met you, you have only brought me good things. Affection, happiness, hope. You've been that kind warm feeling that I need on my worst days. Hell, you're even the memory for me to cast a patronus." She confesses with emotion, her face wet with tears. "But me? All I bring you is pain and suffering. And now I even bring sickness. This is wrong, I hurt you. You need to see this, and understand that we can no longer happen."

"Don't say that." You ask, reaching up to touch her face, wipe away her tears. "That's not true, Wanda. I love you, you make me..."

"Stop it." She interrupts with a sob. "Don't make it any harder than it already is."

"Please, Wanda, listen to me." You plead, resting your forehead on hers, your hands on her cheeks. "You make me happy, you are the only thing that makes me happy, I love you, please..."

Wanda kisses you hard, and you respond with the same intensity, both of you gasping into each other's mouths.

But then she is pulling away, thrusting you farther apart.

"I'm sorry." She cries, taking a step back. "We're over."

And she's running away again, and this time you don't go after her.

//-//-//-//-//

Without Darkhold's being consumed, you really start to improve in terms of physical health.

The only problem is the emotional ditch you find yourself in.

Gamora, Nebula and Mantis find you, again in the Room of Requirement, skipping class.

"My god this is worse than last time." Gamora remarks as she looks around at the mess of junk food and pillows. The room had been transformed into a "comfortable place", which basically had the appearance of a living room, with several soft armchairs, and lots of unhealthy food. "Why did you guys break up this time?"

"Please don't talk to me." You grumbled, your voice coming out muffled because you were lying on two soft puffs, your face buried in the pillow, your hand inside a bag of muggles snacks.

"I bet you five bucks they'll be back together before the end of the month." Nebula commented and you sniffled against your pillow, hearing a noise that sounded like Gamora hitting her sister.

"We talked to Wanda." Mantis said. "And with Professor Stephen, too. We're sorry about everything, but have you decided you're not going to study anymore?"

"I don't care about school." You grumble against the pillow. "Leave me alone, I want to cry."

Nebula gives a short laugh, and Gamora elbows her.

"Stop hitting me, you crazy." Nebula complains loudly, moving away from her sister to approach you, taking the bag of snacks you have, and making you complain softly. "And you stop being such a drama queen. Aren't you two like soul mates or some shit? It's just a fight, you'll work it out. You're acting like you've never broken up before."

"Your sensitivity is admirable." Gamora scoffs, pushing her sister away to sit next to you, stroking your back until you look up at her. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

You feel the urge to cry arise again. "Wanda thinks she is bad for me." You say. "And she doesn't want to be with me anymore, and I want to die."

You start crying again, stuffing your face into the pillow as Gamora strokes your hair.

"How did this happen anyway?" Nebula asks, confused, chewing on salty snacks."You barely slept at home over the summer to be with her, and now you guys are breaking up. It's hard to keep up with this relationship."

"Merlin, Nebula shut up." Gamora asks impatiently, and her sister raises her hands in surrender with an ironic expression. You want to scream against your pillow, but all you do is try to control your crying.

"You can't keep disappearing, sweetheart." Gamora says as she runs her hands through your hair, trying to calm you down. "Kaecilius has already noticed. He's trying to figure out where you're going, and eventually he'll figure it out since you can't stay here forever."

"Maybe I can." You mumble making Gamora laugh softly.

"Come on, I'm sure you miss a decent meal." She says. "Why don't you join us for lunch?"

"I can't sit at your table."

"Who said anything about a table?"

This is how you end up on the edge of the great lake, at a picnic.

Mantis gets several dishes from the house elves, and since lunch is a free social hour, nobody seems to mind that you are eating outside.

Your sisters are not the only students who, over time, have learned ways around school rules.

You grumble slightly as you feel the sun on your face, but lie back on the grass, closing your eyes.

Your mind wanders back to last summer immediately, the memories of Wanda, and you feel horrible. You just want her back. And then you swallow the urge to cry again to accept the juice Mantis offers you.

"We wanted to tell you that we've found a way to help you, too." Gamora says after a moment, causing you to raise your eyebrow. "About the darkhold, and the eternal damnation thing."

"Light topic." You sneer, throwing your arm over your face. The day is hot. "I appreciate the help, of course."

Gamora giggles. "Merlin, I had forgotten how grumpy you get when you're upset."

"I'm not upset, Gamora." You retort angrily. "I'm frustrated."

"Sexually." Nebula sneers, making you grunt in anger, but Mantis holds back a laugh.

"What's your problem with my feelings lately?" You accuse the girl with irritation.

"Not everything is about you, you know." She retorts and you sit up quickly, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Nebula laughs, rolling her eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, there's a war going on." She says. "We're all stressed and scared. And the three of us have been in the same classes as you, having to watch the same things. But you only have time for Wanda. And now you've broken up, again, because there's some mortal danger, again, that she's caused for you. So, I don't know, but maybe she is right to break up. Ever since you guys started dating everything has been about her, and the trouble she causes!"

"Fuck you, Nebula!" You exclaim angrily, advancing against the girl in front of you. Gamora and Mantis quickly separate you.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" Gamora shoves you. "Were you really going to hit her?"

"Fuck this." You curse angrily, taking a step away. "I didn't ask any of you to come after me. I don't need you. I just need Wanda. Fucking leave me alone."

You turn back to the castle, cursing the wild on your way.

//-//-//-//

Loki is the only friend you have now.

You wouldn't call him a friend exactly.

Kaecilius has put you in detention for three days a week, including Saturday, but mostly you just clean the castle. But when he takes you to the seventh floor, and makes you scrape sentences against your own skin, you don't worry about being alone anymore, because Loki is always on that floor.

It takes a week for you to tell him about the requirement room.

" You could have mentioned it earlier, we would have stuck around here." He comments without sounding upset.

Soon it doesn't take long for you two to start seeing each other even when you're not in detention.

You are not surprised that Loki also skips classes, he has always been quite mischievous, but the reason is different from yours.

He knew dark magic. Much more than you or your classmates. And he has no interest in practicing it in class.

"It's stupid." He comments as you are sitting in the armchairs. "Most people will never have the courage or willpower to cast a death curse. It's useless to learn."

"Is that the only reason you don't agree with the teaching at Hogwarts now?" You ask in surprise, setting up the chessboard for yourself as Loki shrugs his shoulders.

"I feel like you're judging me, Hufflepuff." He sneers but you smile, rolling your eyes.

"Honestly, I don't give a damn."

And you really didn't care.

Wanda was avoiding you in the halls, and you were doing the same with your friends and family.

When Iron delivered the mail to the Slytherin table, including Nebula's birthday presents, you wanted to throw up, but all you did was walk away from the Hufflepuff table toward the requirement room.

Without the darkhold, you didn't feel sick, but the anger didn't go away.

Your magic hadn't stabilized, and you were failing at everything, but you couldn't bring yourself to worry about it.

Erik wrote to you, commenting on the importance of you and Wanda practicing magical balancing together, and you burned the letter while crying on the carpet.

And at this rate, time went by.

It was almost the middle of the school year when things started to take a turn for the worse at Hogwarts, and in the wizarding war as well.

Mephisto is getting stronger, and the order is losing. And Kaecillius must be under some pressure from the ministry, maybe for answers from organizations like the Avengers, which are forbidden, because his detentions get too horrible.

It is Saturday again, and you drag yourself to the room where you are supposed to fulfill your detention, but unlike the other days, Kaecillius locks the door.

You only notice because he seems tense and distracted, and there is no feather or book.

"Professor, what will my punishment be today?" You ask confused, and he is nodding to the center of the room as he stands in front of the desk, a few feet from you.

"Miss Stark, today I want to ask some questions and I expect honesty." He declines as he turns to you.

You hiss softly, putting your hands in your pockets.

"Shoot."

Kaecillius doesn't even mind your lack of formality, looking at you with an impassive face.

"What is Mephisto's location?"

You choke in surprise and disbelief. "Excuse me? Why do you think I know that?"

"The ministry has reason enough to suspect that the Order of the Avengers is nothing more than a cover for the death walkers.Your brother, whom I had suspected of being part of that order of delinquents, is no longer at Hogwarts, but you will have to serve." He speaks and with each word you become more outraged. "Now answer me, where is Mephisto?"

" Did you just fucking call my brother a delinquent?" You mutter incredulously. "I have no idea where Mephisto is, what's your problem?"

But you widen your eyes when the professor draws his wand, and you barely have time to swallow dry before the spell hits you in the chest.

It's the cruciatus curse. You know the second it hits you. The sharp pain fills every cell in your body and you scream, not having the strength to stand or with your eyes open, hugging yourself.

"We must not tell lies, Miss Stark." Kaecillius says as soon as he stops enchanting you, the pain disappears in the same instant, but you continue to tremble.

In complete shock and fear, you sob.

"I will ask you again, where is Mephisto?"

You let the tears flow, and shake your head. "I don't know, professor."

Kaecillius lets out a sigh of disappointment. "Some cases are more difficult than others." He comments somberly, taking a step toward her. "Did you know that the record for enduring the Cruciatus curse before madness is six hours? Incredible, isn't it? It happened during the first war, with a muggleborn. You're a half-blood, maybe you can take longer"

He has a devilish grin as he finishes, and you clench your jaw at the threat.

"I don't know where Mephisto is." You repeat, but the professor points his wand at you again.

"My bet is seven hours."

And then the pain returns.

You don't know how long you stay in that room.

But it is long enough for your consciousness to begin to fade. The pain gets so severe that it gradually fades away. You begin to gasp breathlessly, not even able to scream anymore.

Someone help me. Please, help me. Help me. Wanda.

Between the tears you see the floor of the room, and between a twinge of pain, a red light. And everything is dark again.

//-//-//

“Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Warcraft and Wizard is arrested in flagrant by aurors from the ministry of magic this week, full coverage on page..."

You blink confusedly, your eyes getting used to the clarity, while the headline of the Daily Prophet was the first thing your vision caught.

And then you shifted in bed, realizing that you were in a hospital room , and whoever was reading next to you put the paper down when they heard you, and you could behold the curious look on your brother's face.

"Tony?" you whispered confused, and he smiled as he stood up quickly, the newspaper forgotten on the armchair.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked as his hand reached for the loose strands of hair on your face and put them back. "You scared the hell out of me."

"What happened?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

You thought, and then sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Kaecilius."

Tony bit his lip nervously before speaking.

"I'm sorry." He said, lowering his hand to his own. "I came here as soon as I got the howler from Professor Strange, but honestly, I didn't even need it, because all the newspapers are talking about it."

"What...?" You started in confusion, but Tony hurried to explain.

"Wanda found you, Y/N." He told. "She, well, wasn't exactly happy about the whole thing. I think she lost control. Kaecilius is lucky to be alive if you ask me. She almost destroyed the seventh floor, it was a huge mess. And then the aurors interfered, and soon there were reporters everywhere. I guess now everyone knows she's a scarlet witch."

You widened your eyes, straightening to sit up and grumbling a little in pain. Tony looked at you with concern, asking you to take it easy, but you were already asking about Wanda.

"She's at the ministry of magic." He clarified. "Kaecilius is going on trial for torturing a student, and she will answer for putting everyone in danger."

" What?" you ask incredulously, and Tony sighs.

"Yeah I know it's unfair." He says. "But the minister of magic seems to be looking everywhere for people to blame for his lack of control. The problem is how much of that information will get to Mephisto. The whole ministry seems to be full of walkers."

You ran your hand across your face, frustrated.

"I'm so tired, Tony." You confess in a whisper. "It feels like everything is falling apart around me, and things are only getting worse."

Tony squeezes your hand. "I'm sorry, I really am. This whole situation sucks, and I wanted to help you. I'm trying, sister. I haven't been talking to you as much as I should, but I didn't want you to think you're alone. I'm working on breaking the bond. To free you and Wanda from the prophecy, and the wizarding world from dangers like Mephisto. I'm sorry I haven't been by your side."

You swallow your cry, and nod, trying to smile at Tony. He reaches up to hug you, and you gasp softly, taking a few seconds to relax and let the tears flow.

When you calm down, Tony tells you that he is going to get a Mediwizards to check your situation.

You lie down again, sighing softly. The memories come back with full force, and you choke softly, feeling your body tremble.

It's as if you can feel the curse again, sense the pain on your skin. Opening your eyes and shaking the memories away, you swallow dryly and reach for the glass of water on the nightstand.

You just want Wanda by your side telling you that everything is going to be okay.

//-//-//-//-//

You stay under observation for two days.

Doctor Hank makes a joke about you enjoying St.Mungus more than you should since you keep coming back, but Tony doesn't laugh.

Then you' re going back to Hogwarts by train, because the doctor thinks you shouldn't use magical means of transportation for a few days, and it's weird to take the empty express, but as soon as you arrive at the station, Gamora and Nebula are waiting for you with boxes of candy bought in Hogsmeade, and tight hugs.

You are not surprised by the stares you receive from the other students, but you ignore them as your sisters escort you around the castle to the Hufflepuff communal hall.

"Did you get to talk to Wanda?" Gamora asks as soon as you sit down on your bed, sighing with exhaustion from the train ride. The mention of the other sorceress' name doesn't help.

"Not yet." You say. "And I wouldn't be surprised to hear that she's ignoring me."

Nebula exchanges a look with her sister before sitting down on Mantis' bed, who is hugging her knees and looking at you.

"Honestly, I just want to finish this year without any more problems." You confess as you take off your jacket. And there is a moment of silence before you swallow dryly. "I also wanted to apologize to you guys."

Gamora frowns slightly, but says nothing. You take a deep breath.

"I know I was under the influence of an evil book, but that was still no excuse for treating you guys like that." You begin. "Tony told me about how things are in the wizarding world. Everyone is going through something, and it was selfish of me to think that only my problems matter. I'm sorry."

"Really, Y/N, it's okay." Nebula says, surprising you a bit. "We were all stressed, and well, I think an evil book is a pretty fair excuse." She jokes, making you smile. "Maybe things will get a little better now that Strange is the director."

"Oh, that's right" You comment just then remembering the things Tony updated you on while you were at St.Mungus. Like Kaecillius' resignation, and the position being passed on to Professor Stephen. "But honestly, I won't be at peace until I hear from Wanda."

"The trial isn't until Friday. And the way things are going, we won't get any news until it's over." Gamora warned as she sat down on the bed next to you. "I think the Maximoffs are probably too busy to write."

"What do you think will happen to Wanda?" You ask as you tug at the loose strands of the comforter. Mantis sighs lightly.

"I don't have a good feeling about things, Y/N." She confesses and you frown in concern. "And the stars never lie."

"Thank you, Mantis." You mock softly, and Gamora runs her hands through her hair.

"Let's not be pessimistic, okay?" she says. "Maybe the predictions are about, I don't know, the school finals? It doesn't mean something bad is really going to happen."

You grumble unhappily, grabbing a pillow and sinking your face into it. Gamora strokes your back.

"I'm sure things will work out, Y/N." She says. "Wanda will write as soon as she can."

"Do you guys think Kaecilius will be sent to Azkaban?" Nebula asks next, making you raise your head curiously.

"I wouldn't be so sure." You grumble. "I was actually surprised that he was put on trial at all."

"Well, with the whole mess that happened, it was bound to happen." Gamora said. "More than half the school became aware that he used the cruciatus curse on you, and then the daily prophet. And I didn't even know they were in the castle."

"It was because of Wanda really, wasn't it?" Mantis added. "Kaecillius caused his own ruin. He called the journalists to show what he called progress and decided to torture a student while they were in the castle. Then Wanda destroyed the entire floor and the next morning his arrest was all over the pages."

"I'm just really outraged to know that if no one had seen it, he would probably still be at Hogwarts." Gamora says angrily, and you sigh, agreeing as well as the others.

"Well, you must be hungry, shall we go to the great hall? It's almost dinner time." Gamora comments next, pulling you by the hand. You grumble softly, but agree, and soon you are leaving the communal hall to join the rest of the students.

//-//-//-//-//

You are tapping your fingers gently against the desk as you wait for the History of Magic class to begin.

It is Friday, finally.

You have barely slept because of anxiety about news of Wanda's trial.

Things at Hogwarts have changed a lot this week, all because of Strange's administration.

He restored the old classes, banned the teaching of dark magic, the scandal at the Daily Prophet being enough of an argument that the Minister of Magic no longer had a defense over this kind of teaching at Hogwarts. The restricted session of the library was also put back, and the seventh floor was off-limits because of the destruction Wanda caused, and you unfortunately lost access to the Requirement room.

Mantis was writing what looked like a lunar calendar for the divination class while Professor Okoye didn't arrive, and you started whistling distractedly.

And then Thor Odinson was poking you in the back to get your attention, and you turned around in your chair.

"Hi, Stark, what's up?"

"Fine." You grumbled suspiciously. "Can I help you with something?"

Thor looked almost unsure. "I was just wondering if you know of anything going on with Loki."

You frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I mean if you know if he's sick or something." He explains. "We had a fight, and well, he's not talking to me. And I've noticed that you guys have been kind of close lately, and I was curious if you knew anything and..."

"No, Thor, I'm sorry." You interrupt with a sigh. "Maybe you should ask him that."

Thor assumes a sad expression. "I would, but he's ignoring me. I think it might be about our mother."

You make a confused expression, and Thor looks surprised.

"Our mother, she...died earlier this year, Y/N." Thor counters, and you widen your eyes. "Our family is a name of reference against Mephisto. With the war, the walkers came to our home. She was there while we were here, and Dad was at the ministry."

"I'm so sorry, Thor." You whisper to him, still shocked by the information. He shrugged.

"I thought Loki told you."

"We don't talk about things like that, I guess." You say. "Sorry, I wish I knew how to help you."

"No, it's okay." Thor says with a sad smile. "You being his friend this year is more than enough. I don't like seeing him all alone out here."

You nod lightly, settling into your chair as you notice the teacher entering the room.

Mantis exchanges a look of understanding with you, having overheard the conversation even if accidentally, but she says nothing, and soon you are hearing about the witch hunt in the United States, and you try to focus on that rather than curiosity about how Wanda's trial is going or Loki's current emotional state.

//-//-/-//-//-//

As soon as lunchtime begins, you join the Slytherin table, where some of the students have placed a radio on the table, equally with other students from the other houses, to listen to the trial.

You are not surprised that a student's trial is such an interesting topic for everyone, but after the school started talking about Wanda being a scarlet witch, and the theories circulating around the halls, it was to be expected.

So you sit back while biting your fingertips and listening.

"And now directly from the Ministry of Magic, the trial of seventeen-year-old witch Wanda Maximoff, daughter of legendary witch Erik L-"

Your attention is slightly diverted from the narrative when loud laughter catches your ears.

They are Gryffindor and Slytherin students, exchanging coins. You don't need to hear the conversation to know they are gambling about the trial, the mean laughter and glances in the direction of you and your sisters are enough.

And as if she could feel your growing fury, Gamora touches your shoulder gently.

"Just ignore them, Y/N." She urges and you clench your jaw. " Everything is going to be okay with Wanda."

"I hope you're right, Gamora." You grumble, turning your attention back to the radio.

The narration of the newspaper is generic, and you discover that the audience has been closed off to the reporters.

You take a deep breath, concentrating.

No strange feeling, so Wanda is safe.

You wonder if Erik and Pietro are by her side during the whole thing.

It is only at the end of lunchtime that you have the result.

"It's amazing how things unfold in the ministry this afternoon." Counted the reporter with almost excitement. "After a unanimous vote, the witch Wanda Maximoff was found guilty of endangering her fellow students by not registering as a scarlet witch to the ministry of magic, after it was proven that her father, the sorcerer Erik Lehnsherr knew of her condition, as well as the affiliation with the criminal, Agatha Harkness was also mentioned. The ministry finally decided on Wanda Maximoff's expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding"

You felt your stomach plummet.

And everything became a little muffled around you, a soft whistle in your ear. You think Gamora and Nebula were calling for you, but you were getting up, feeling the room getting too small.

Stumbling out, you loosened the knot of your tie, finally stopping in the courtyard as you leaned your body against a pillar.

Wanda had been expelled from Hogwarts, publicly exposed as a Scarlet Witch, and tried as a criminal. You wondered if they would break her wand. Banned wizards led horrible lives.

Your sisters and friends caught up with you quickly, and you let them hug you.

In a few minutes Director Strange is catching up with you as well, and you release Gamora's grip to talk to him.

"Professor, I need to..."

"You cannot leave Hogwarts, Miss Stark." He interrupts with a wave of his hands and you frown in confusion, ready to protest but he is already speaking. "Tony sent a patronus as soon as the results came out, he already figured you'd want to see Miss Maximoff. The ministry is a mess, and Wanda will be staying with her father there for the minister's final decisions. You should stay here, where you are safe."

"That's not fair!" You squawk angrily. "Wanda needs me, I must-"

"She needs you to be safe." He interrupts again seriously, and then lowers his tone slightly as he notices the curious looks of the surrounding students. "Be rational, Miss Stark. Now that the Wizarding community knows the nature of Wanda's powers, how long before Mephisto has enough information and discovers your identity as protector."

You swallow dryly, clenching your fists begrudgingly. Stephen is right. You look away, and he sighs, placing his hand on your shoulder.

"Wanda will be fine, even without her NEWTS, she is an extraordinary witch." He says. "And the year is coming to an end, soon you will be able to see her again."

"She needs me now." You grumble annoyed, turning away from the professor's touch. He looks at you for a moment and then clears his throat.

"I'll see what I can do, Miss Stark." He says."In the meantime, focus on your studies, and be careful."

You frown at Stephen's words, but he is already turning and leaving before you can ask.

As you turn to your friends, Gamora has a worried look on her face.

"Are you okay?" She asks, and you sigh, agreeing to hug her again as you mumble no.

"I can feel how upset she is, Gamora." You grumble against your sister's shirt, wishing you could hug Wanda now. Gamora squeezes you against her arms, and you thank her for her intention even if it isn't enough.

The next few days are like a blur for you.

Many letters arrive, as do many editions of the Daily Prophet.

When the picture of the day Wanda's wand was broken comes out on the front page and you see her tired face, you have to run out of the common room to keep from crying in front of your colleagues.

Everyone writes to you, even Carol, everyone but the Maximoffs.

It is frustrating, and honestly, it breaks your heart in many ways.

The news of a Scarlet Witch after a century is almost as bombastic as Mephisto's return, and you're not surprised that many of your colleagues would start to comment on the possibility of Wanda working with him or against him.

It's overwhelming how everyone talks about her, but all you can feel is how much you miss her around the castle, around you.

You couldn't even remember that your magic is stable, and with everything that has happened, you haven't had time to figure out how to fix things.

Stephen tried to help, but he didn't know what was going on. At least the theoretical part of magic you were able to master, and you hoped to get at least an acceptable score in some subjects.

Only almost a week and a half after the trial, Professor Strange interrupts the potions class to talk to you.

Ignoring the curious stares and whispers of your classmates, you ask Professor Munroe to excuse you, and leave the room.

"What is wrong, professor?" You ask curiously as you close the door, watching Stephen with his hands in his pockets.The dungeons feel emptier without the ministry aurors around the castle.

"Saturday, in the Astronomy tower, nine-thirteen at night." He says as he hands you a small gold key, causing you to frown in confusion. "You will have exactly one hour, Miss Stark. Not a second more."

You stare at the object in your hand, and understand. A portal key. To Wanda.

"Thank you, Professor." You say, and Stephen nods before leaving.

You turn back to potions, the object in your pocket. You could barely contain your anxiety.

//-//-//-//-//-//-//

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A/F/N> Place your bets for my next comeback (a week, a month or tomorrow?). If I delete the blog, and you're in love with this story for some reason I don't know about because there are so many better things to read, know that I'll post everything on AO3 if I ever do.