#i wonder how many conversations he just got lost in cause they kept going on tangents or smth

[purpleshadow-star]

Here's a reminder that Frank does not have adhd or dyslexia like most demigods, so he was stuck on the Argo II with at least five to six other teenagers with adhd at all times. I wonder what that was like for him...

#5-6 bc it was the rest of the 7 and then nico after percy and annabeth fell into tartarus #and nico def has adhd one look at his chaotic thoughts in his pov chapters confirms this #also think about his behavior as a kid. 100% he has adhd #so frank stuck on a ship full of adhd kids for like a month and a half to two months #i wonder what that was like lol #i mentioned this to my sis (who doesnt have adhd) and she said it was prob vary chaotic #she has a lot of friends with adhd and i have it too so she has experience being in franks shoes lol #i wonder how many conversations he just got lost in cause they kept going on tangents or smth #it must have been an experience for him #riordanverse #rick riordan #frank zhang #argo 2 crew #heros of olympus #pjo hoo toa #pjo verse

[bananami]

haikyuu characters as taylor swift songs (the break ups)

a/n: time-skip canonically exists and that's what i'm clearly using

in honor of the eras tour starting up, here are some t swift songs that would encapsulate what a break up with certain haikyuu characters would look like; i only did a few because this shit took some tiiiime ok

i'm gonna hurt myself with this one.

masterlist

would've, could've, should've

"god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be" "give me back my girlhood, it was mine first" "and now that i'm grown i'm scared of ghosts, memories feel like weapons, and now that i know, i wish you'd left me wondering"

the effects of a break up with him lasts longer than you would like, following you for months after and even into the relationships you try to have afterwards. everything reminds you of him. if loving him meant you were left feeling like this, you would've rather never loved him at all. the break up with him literally breaks you.

-oikawa, atsumu, suna

midnight rain

"he wanted it comfortable, i wanted that pain" "i broke his heart 'cause he was nice, he was sunshine, i was midnight rain" "and he never thinks of me"

you're the problem. he was the nice guy that you should've chose, but you didn't. years of bad relationships had scarred you for the worse. the problem was that he was perfect, too perfect, and you were broken. better to run while you still had the chance, you convince yourself it was inevitable and he was just too nice to end things. you would ruin it for the both of you, he would find better.

-hinata, bokuto, suga

cardigan

"you drew stars around my scars, but not i'm bleeding" "i knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss, i knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs" "i knew i'd curse you for the longest time...i knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired" "i knew you'd come back to me"

it's a constant game of back and forth that you grew sick of. you were done being a second choice. there are a lot of regrets after the break up, but you get over it faster than he does. it takes longer for him to realize it, and by that time, you've moved on. he's texting you, begging you to take him back, blowing up your phone with voicemails, sending flowers to your work. eventually you block him. you still love him, but you choose yourself this time.

-osamu, ushijima, kageyama

exile

"i think i've seen this film before, and i didn't like the ending, you're not my homeland anymore, so what am i defending now" "i can see you staring honey, like he's just your understudy" "you never gave a warning sign (i gave so many signs)"

the fallout is slow, you've fought and broken up so many times recently that it's no surprise this last time. what is surprising is when he sees you with someone new, looking happier than you ever did with him. he thought it was like every other time, he thought you'd get back together. the confusion on his face is clear, the anger is quick. how could he have missed the resentment growing within you? he'd never stop trying to come back into your life. sometimes you'd let him back in. every time, you'd regret it.

-kenma, akaashi, kita

all too well

"you kept me like a secret, but i kept you like an oath" "maybe we got lost in translation, maybe i asked for too much, maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up" "you call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest"

it's perfect until it's not. the worst are the conversations toward the end of it all. he's hurting you, but he won't let you go, sacrificing your happiness for his comfort in a dead relationship. you cry loaded tears and he makes barren promises. the break up isn't even the end of it. you can't escape him, having to share your friends with one another and working so close to each other. you want so badly to be over him, but the wound rips open at every reminder of his constant presence in your life. he won't let you go completely, but he won't ever love you the way you deserve.

-kuroo, iwaizumi, sakusa

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x you #oikawa x reader #atsumu x reader #suna x reader #hinata x reader #bokuto x reader #suga x reader #osamu x reader #ushijima x reader #kageyama x reader #kenma x reader #akaashi x reader #kita x reader #kuroo x reader #iwaizumi x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu masterlist #haikyuu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyu angst

[reminiscingtonight]

18

Emily Sonnett x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: love myself some country songs

[WOSO Masterlist]

It’s dark and dingy inside this back-alley bar but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be after a long hard fought soccer game. It was a high paced constant back and forth between the two clubs, but if the confident smirk on Emily’s face as she sits next to you at the table is any indication, your team sadly lost. 

Despite that fact, there’s a light atmosphere around the table. You had agreed to go out with your girlfriend and some of your friends for a quick drink before your flight back out to the west coast in the morning. But as Kelley starts questioning your pre-college decisions, you start debating stealing your girlfriend to spend the night alone. 

“You mean you had the chance to be a Cardinal and you turned it down? To be a Cavalier?” The last word is spoken with so much disdain that you have to fight the urge to laugh. Kelley looks so genuinely insulted at the insulation that you had the opportunity but then refused to go to her alma mater. 

Before you or Emily can say anything, Becky’s swooping in, landing a slap against the back of Kelley’s head. “Is there something wrong with being a Cavalier?” the UVA alum tuts, raising an eyebrow at the brunette.

Kelley mutters something unintelligible under her breath, but whatever she says is enough for Becky to sit back with a satisfied look on her face.

Rolling her eyes, Kelley turns her attention back to you and your girlfriend.

“Fine. How did this decision come to be?”

You and Emily share a look. 

“Well, it all began with Peter from homeroom.”

---

You’re well aware of all the looks you’re getting. Standing next to the prettiest girl in the school, you’re also wondering why she agreed to go with you to the school dance.

Emily’s always been your best friend. You met her and Emma on the first day of preschool, and you’ve stuck by each other’s sides since. The three of you were always doing everything together. Soccer, dance, anything that kept the three of you active and not causing a ruckus at home. 

When you quietly asked if Emily would go with you to homecoming, you’re not sure if she got that you wanted it to be a date. Emma sent you a pair of thumbs up from behind her twin’s back when Emily agreed, but the blonde had yet to give you any indication that she saw this as anything but a friendly accompaniment.

It’s always been clear to you how everyone either wanted to be the confident jokester or be with her. You only considered yourself lucky that she hadn’t said yes to anyone else by the time you asked. 

You’re across the room, getting the two of you a drink when you spot Peter coming to a stop in front of your best friend. From all the classes you share, you’re more than familiar with the way Peter persistently tries to get Emily’s attention in every single one of them. He never does it in an overtly creepy or arrogant way, but a girl can only pretend to be interested in bland conversation so many times before she loses her mind. 

All it takes is a pleading look sent across the room and you’re abandoning your drinks, throwing an arm around Emily’s shoulder, and pressing a kiss against her cheek. “Hey babe, everything okay?”

Both of them turn a shade of red, Peter from the clear display of affection in front of him, Emily from your undivided attention. 

“Peter was just telling me about tickets he had to the Hawks game next week.”

You nod, casually slipping your free hand into Emily’s. She catches on quick, tangling your fingers together. Peter’s eyes widen at the action. 

“Right, I think Em told me something about how they’re on a six game winning streak.” Emma’s currently dating a varsity basketball player, and you and Emily are way past aware of the Hawks’ current win-loss ratio. Emily hums under her breath, making sure Peter can see the way she snuggles deeper against you.

“Oh, the two of you…” he trails off, not sure how to ask the question.

Emily’s hand tightens around yours. She fixes him with a stare. “Yeah. She’s my date.”

The way Peter’s jaw nearly drops to the floor with the revelation is almost enough to get you to break your facade. Thankfully he hastily makes his exit before either of you can give up the charade.

“I hope that was okay,” Emily murmurs the second he’s out of sight. 

You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure. “Yeah, no, that was fine.”

Emily simply hums in response. You’re a bit confused why Emily hasn’t pulled away yet. If anything, she seems to settle against you more. 

“To be fair you did kinda start that whole thing by kissing me and calling me babe.”

The response is instantaneous. This time you’re the one turning red, stiffening against Emily’s body. You hurry to pull your hands back to yourself, but Emily tightens her grip against you, not letting you escape. Amused hazel eyes lock against yours, a light smirk on the blonde’s face. 

“Though that was a pretty lame kiss, if I’m being honest.”

You don’t miss the way her eyes briefly drop to your lips. Nor do you miss the way her tongue darts out, wetting her own. 

Your mouth suddenly feels dry.

“If we’re making this a real thing, I’m expecting a step up in effort.”

With that, she gives your hand a pat before releasing you. You’re left with a racing heart as Emily walks away, heading to grab your abandoned drinks from earlier. 

.

A familiar gray jeep pulls up to pick you up for your first date. Emily didn’t even ask you out. She more or less willed it to happen, texting you a date and time, no explanations given. 

You bugged Emma the entire week, but she refused to spoil her twin’s plans. “Patience is a virtue, you know?”

Emily looks dashing, a nice pair of pants and light blouse replacing her usual soccer tee and basketball shorts combo. Her hair is down in soft curls, out from her normal ponytail. It makes your heart skip a beat at the obvious effort she takes to make this date all the more real. 

The blonde gives you a blinding smile before handing you a single rose. 

“Where’s the rest of the bouquet?” you rib, trying to hide your blush.

“Waiting for our next date, of course,” Emily shoots back, not missing a beat. 

When you pull into the familiar Waffle House parking lot in true Emily Sonnett fashion, you can’t help but let out a laugh. 

Emily grins and she offers you a hand, pulling you towards her favorite restaurant. Your intertwined hands swing freely between you on your walk to the table. They stay together even as you sit down, hands moving to sit on top the table. 

In this moment it’s as if nothing else in the world matters except for the two of you. You’re not unaware of the eyes that glance your way every couple of minutes, but with Emily captivating all of your attention, you couldn’t care less. 

Between stuffing her face and cracking jokes, Emily still manages to charm you. You find yourself entranced by everything the blonde does. The way her eyes light up whenever you bring up a topic of delight. The way she nervously scratches at her neck when you say something that makes her blush. 

Emily brings you to an ice cream shop for dessert after your breakfast-for-dinner meal. You spend the entire time complaining that you’re too full, but Emily only takes that as free reign to eat both your servings of ice cream. You simply look on in adoration, swooping in to wipe away any stray drops that make it down her chin. 

By the time you make it home, it’s been dark for hours. You had spent the rest of the night strolling around nearby parks, watching the stars appear in the night sky, wrapped around one another. But as your time draws to a clear end, you find yourself disappointed at having to part ways. If the frown on Emily’s face is any indication, she also feels the same way. 

Before you can open your car door, Emily grabs ahold of your hand. 

She looks extremely nervous now, eyes constantly darting between your touching hands and the floor. 

“Can I kiss you?”

When you nod, Emily’s quick to lean in. And when she nervously kisses you there, sitting under dim lights in your driveway, it’s perfect. 

.

Autumn turns to winter, winter into spring, and with the changes in seasons comes college decisions. You’re a bit proud to be accepted into nearly every college you apply to, but you can’t deny the special skip in your steps that sets in when you see the acceptance to UVA sitting in the mail. Emily had already committed there a couple weeks back, taking an athletic scholarship to play soccer there. Your first choice before this moment had been Stanford, but faced with the prospect of playing soccer at the same college as your girlfriends seems too enticing to give up. 

Your parents are more than unamused when you tell them your plans.

Your mom scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous. What happened to Stanford?”

You shrug, eyes glued to your feet. “I don’t want to go to Stanford.”

“This is because of Emily, isn’t it?” 

You grit your teeth at the way your father says her name. Your parents never liked her, you know that. She was always ‘too wild,’ ‘not proper enough.’ Their tolerance of the blonde only went down when they found out you were dating. 

“Don’t let this relationship throw off your entire life. You’re too young to know what you want or what’s good for you.”

The number of quality star soccer players that have come out of Stanford isn’t lost on you. Stanford’s reputation far precedes itself, but none of it holds a candlelight to the prospect of playing for the rising UVA soccer team or spending another four years with your favorite person. 

“Whichever college I go to is my choice. I’m going to UVA and that’s final.”

When Emily hears about your commitment to the University of Virginia, she’s enthusiastic at first. She kisses you senseless, excited at the thought of playing for the same team and spending the next four years together. 

But it’s clear when the guilt sinks in. 

You’re over at her house, studying for your chemistry exam the next day when she tries to do something about it. Emily’s quieter than normal, but you don’t confront her. She’s always pondering over things and you know that if it’s serious enough she’ll bring it up herself in due time.

You’re in the middle of describing the processes of oxidizing iron when Emily finally breaks her silence.

“I want to break up.”

You falter for a moment, pausing briefly to give her a look. It only takes a second before you’re completely disregarding her declaration and continuing your explanation. 

When a minute passes and you still haven’t acknowledged her statement, a peeved look crosses Emily’s face. “Did you hear me?” 

This time Emily’s words are accompanied by a wild wave of her hand in front of your face, successfully drawing your attention away from your science notes.

“Yes. But like I was explaining, the H2O--”

“I’m breaking up with you,” she interrupts. Emily cocks an eyebrow as she waits for your response.

Sighing, you put your book down, giving her your full attention. “Yes, and I hear you. But no, I decline to accept.”

Her mouth drops open. “What? Hey! You can’t do that, I’m being serious!”

You shrug. “So am I.”

“I-- I…” she sputters, face turning red. “We’re breaking up, right now.”

“Nope.” 

“(Y/N)--”

“Look, Son.” You fix her with a look that has Emily instantly shutting her mouth. “You can try to break up with me, but I’m not going to accept it. Sorry, but you’re stuck with me.”

It’s almost as if you can see the gears turning in her brain. Eventually, Emily settles with crossing her arms, leaning back against her chair. The blonde huffs, blowing out a breath of annoyed air. “You’re insufferable,” she mutters. 

You grin, seeing the smile she’s trying to hide herself. “Well you’re dating me so what does that say about you?”

When Emily gives you a hard shove, you know that everything’s going to be okay. 

UVA wouldn’t be ready for the two of you. 

---

And here you are now. Despite playing at different clubs across the country from each other, both of you are proud national team members that have somehow kept your relationship alive even after all these years. 

It’s clear Kelley feels the same way, the furrow between her eyebrows being an indication. “So. 18 to now? That’s… that’s a lot of years.”

“The longest,” your girlfriend agrees, taking a sip from the beer in front of her. 

“So how come y’all haven’t tied the knot yet?” Kelley questions, leaning in towards the two of you. 

Emily simply cocks an eyebrow at the defender. “Who says we haven’t?”

“We haven’t,” you insert quickly before Kelley has an aneurysm. The defender looked two seconds from passing out at Emily’s automatic quip. You give Emily a gentle kick under the table and she grins at you in response. 

Kelley starts whining and pouting at Emily, claiming she’s being too cruel towards her elders, but you’re too busy laughing at the self-satisfied smirk on Emily’s face to pay too much attention to the brunette.

No, the two of you haven’t “tied the knot” yet, but it doesn’t mean you’re not almost there. You’ll keep pretending you don’t know what’s hidden in the old pair of cleats Emily claims doesn’t fit anymore and she’ll keep pretending she doesn’t know what you have hidden inside a cereal box that’s been finished ages ago but still lives in your pantry. You’ll keep turning a blind eye (and ear) when you catch Emily and Lindsey scheming away about the best place to pop the question while Emily will keep coincidentally “going out for a run” when she catches you doing the same with her sister.

The two of you will keep pretending you don’t know how this whole thing will end (spoiler: with wedding bells and matching rings) because you know you have the rest of forever to spend by each other’s sides.

#emily sonnett x reader #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

[pcos-uno-reverse]

Hey pcos, fuck you!!!

Starting this blog (and a tiktok) to document my pcos journey. So here's the beginning, for those who are interested or also struggling:

In eighth grade (2012ish), I woke up for school like normal. Took a shower, did my makeup, etc. After I got up from sitting down, a stabbing pain radiated from my left lower abdomen. I told my mom I feel sick, and laid down. My mom is a nurse, so her immediate thought as I pointed to my right side was that my appendix had ruptured. Every bump we went over in the car had me crying out in pain. She hauled ass to the emergency room.

The doctors also originally thought my appendix had ruptured. Until they did an ultrasound.

I had 3 cysts on one ovary, 4 on the other. One, about 5cm, had ruptured, which is what was causing my pain. It took them 8 hours to figure this out.

At my follow up doctors appointment with my pediatrician, he told my mom I can't possibly have pcos because I don't have hairy nipples. I remember this conversation vividly. This was also the day I got on birth control. Apparently, it could help stop new cysts from forming.

I recieved no education and no diagnosis.

Years later, senior year of high school, debilitating periods were second nature to me. Throwing up, and then passing out on the bathroom floor were regular occurances. That was IF I got my period. Even with the placebo week on birth control, I still had very irregular periods. I just kept being told that it's normal. Switching birth controls. I ended up on depo Provera.

I originally attributed my 80 lb weight gain to the depo. So I switched back to the pill. Lost 0 weight. I eventually found a nurse practitioner who actually listened to me, ran blood work, and diagnosed me with pcos. This doctor has since left my state, so I am once again without anyone who will listen. Searching for a new one as we speak.

I remember being SO angry, because this was something I could've been diagnosed with in 8th grade. The painful periods, the cysts, the weight gain, all might've been able to be prevented if that original doctor knew what he was talking about. I was able to get my medical records about that day. They KNEW. And yet they didn't diagnose me, because my nipples weren't hairy.

Fun fact: you don't need to be showing signs of hirsutism (excessive hair growth) to have pcos. But that doctor didn't care or didn't take the time to research.

So now, I'm 25.

I've been on and off metformin, diagnosed pre-diabetic. I work out, daily, and do not lose weight. 800 calorie diets do not work for me. I've learned that this is very common for those with pcos. I am no longer on birth control. I was able to conceive and have a healthy pregnancy, which resulted in my daughter.

However, I still struggle. The biggest struggle I have is the fatigue, and painful periods. It got worse after having a baby. I was able to go from 250 lbs (post pregnancy) to now about 190ish. I am not certain what the exact number is, because I've given up on the scale (that bitch). I have not lost any weight in the months since then. I think breastfeeding benefited my weight loss more than anything.

The depression and anxiety have also been debilitating. Once again, all things that could've been prevented. I wonder how much different my life could've been if I'd learned about this in 8th grade.

I've also been diagnosed with Binge Eating Disorder. Caused by dieting or starving too much. I am currently recovering from that, and am now many months binge free. Did you know that if you have pcos, you're far more likely to have an eating disorder? I had no idea.

Well, tomorrow I'm beginning my PCOS journey. I had a 90 minute appointment with a dietician who specializes in pcos. And I'm going to share all that info with you.

I'm tired of finding website after website, promising free help with pcos but then "Hey, spend $300 if you actually want any info"

I pledge here and now that if this works, if I'm able to reverse my symptoms, I will NEVER sell the information. And shame on those who have.

My end goal here is to help people like me, who have struggled for years with no help.

My tiktok is active, search pcos.uno.reverse. The first video will be posted tomorrow (6/20).

Tomorrow, my life changes for the better. Follow along with me.

#pcos #weightloss #weightlossjourney #polycystic ovaries #polycystic ovary syndrome #healthy #recovering

[figs-and-cigs]

So I started talking to this guy, we hit things off pretty well, went on a couple dates. It became very clear that he was pretty infatuated with me. He began asking about a relationship, labels, a kink dynamic. I mostly shrugged on the red flags: "sure I'd like and am interested in those things - we'll see how it goes!"

So my entire household got sick, kiddo, spouse, myself. My chronic fatigue kicked in and I wasn't interacting with anyone. I'm very honest about my health issues whenever I start taking to people. I go through phases of intense self care/isolation. I have mental and physical health issues, but I manage them. I get sick or have chronic pain/fatigue flares often. "If you don't hear from me, I'm usually fine, busy, sleeping."

But, very often, when people (who don't know me very well) don't hear from me for a bit they seem to jump to 2 conclusions.

I'm dying or at least suffering greatly!

OMG I must hate you and don't want anything to do with you!

Neither of which are ever really true - and if they are I'll say something (I know how to ask for help, and I know how to communicate if our relationship isn't working.)

So this guy I'd been talking to didn't hear from me for a day - because I was sick and slept all day. He sent tons of messages (1. accurately assuming I was "suffering".) I responded as I could and moved on with my life (parenting, being sick with a sick spouse).

Eventually we were feeling better and I went to a Polyam friends' for game night. Well Mr. Guy called, I didn't answer (because I was kicking butt at Quelf), and he sent messages about how worried he was because he hadn't heard from me, for a day...

Anyways after another 2 weeks of me literally just living my life (parenting, self care, my support groups, therapy, cfs day, projects, time with spouse, social engagements) and being bombarded by texts about how worried he was about my being sick all the time (1), or how worried he was that I lost interest in him (2). (Note: I wasn't ignoring him, just not able to have hour long conversations with him every damn day!)

I finally spoke up, eventually ending in this message:

"I really wanted to explore this, but it seems really apparent to me that while a lot of our interests are aligned you're wanting and hoping for a lot more than I can offer - and the timeframe of things aren't aligning well, and my health issues and inability to be more involved in your life is causing you immense distress. It doesn't feel right for me to continue this."

He offered to change (yikes!) insisted he wanted to understand and "navigate this with me" (I don't come with a manual!) There were other red flags I didn't mention, but I'm glad I kept my boundaries and handled this pretty gracefully.

Did I mention I'd only talked to this guy for 2 months, went on 2 dates, didn't establish any type of dynamic? He's also married and been Polyam for 10 years? Also during those 2 months he had 3 other partners breaks up with him... (my understanding is these relationships weren't very long either...)

I hope he talks to his therapist and sorts his stuff out. Trying not to be judgey mcjudgerson but damn dude....

Meanwhile, this isn't my first rodeo and I'm kind of frustratingly wondering -

Do I need to find a better way to clarify my disabilities, my schedules, the way I communicate to new people? It hasn't seemed to be an issue for most of my relationships - but their communication style seem to align with mine (i.e. we don't need to talk every day.) My conclusion is NO, I can't control when people take it personally or become worried about me - and I can only use so many spoons to continually validate and reassure them that 1. I'm ok. I manage my health issues. 2. It's not about them.

WTF is it about "Polam" Cishet MEN wanting to jump into a relationship/dynamic within the first month of talking!?!? This isn't the first time, and I'm sure I won't be the last. (I'm reminded of the man, who on our first date, tried to link our Google calendars together! Ughhh. NO!) I've not had this problem with non Cishet Men - (and not with the Cishet Men I currently have relationships with lol). But even monogamous people date for a while before starting a relationship, right? RIGHT?

#glad i got that off my chest #vent blog #chronic illness #ethical non monogamy #chronic pain #fibromyalgia #polyamorous #polyam dating #dating #chronic fatigue

[cherrypeaking]

good morning my love~ 🥺🩵 i hope you slept well!

after our last conversation i can’t stop yearning for a nice, lazy sunday together where we know we have nothing to do the next day so we take our time doing whatever we want~ that would be so perfect 🥺🥺 i’m having so many cute little domestic fantasies about you lately my love 🥺🩵🩵sometimes i wonder what we would do if you were in my room with me like what would be the first thing i’d show you? the state of my bedroom is nothing short of a sensory nightmare right now and the criminal at large (*that* txt poster 😒) still hasn’t been dealt with but i would be so eager to show you all my stuff like the part of my wall where i put cute candy wrappers and plane tickets or my taehyun pc binder or my plushie collection that puts kai’s to shame!! so many options hehe 🥺🩵 just the thought of showing you around makes me so giddy~

i was thinking about the fact that you’re a girly pop girl and i think you would love I AM by IVE it’s so you 💃🏾💃🏾💃🏾💃🏾 something about it reminds me of hurricane hehe

(our little lost boys~ 🥺🥺 i love these pics so much temptation probably has my fave styling ever next to freeze (world version), i know you’ve probably told me this before but what’s your favorite era style-wise?)

period cramps still have me incapacitated along with a killer headache so i’m lying in bed listening to one of my many slow playlists and thinking about you~ i can’t wait for the day when i’ll be able to hold you in my arms, my love… 🥺 i yearn for it so much i can’t wait for our teleportation skills to improve so we can make that happen hehe 🥺🤭

i love you so much baby~ my cherry danish 🥺🥺 my little flower 🥺🌸🍒🩷

my love!! i slept well 🥺🥺🩷 i got woken up by my alarm tho which always kills me 😵‍💫 but i have no choice…

aaaah mommy 🥺🥺🩷 i get domestic thoughts when i’m cooking most of the time or showering 😳👉👈🩷 i would want us to chill like this without anything to do for the next day as well 🥺🥺🩷 oooh i’d love to see your room it seems so cute!! mine has nothing interesting i haven’t tidied it in so long and i really should :( i don’t even have txt posters on my walls 😭 but yeah… speaking of, i can’t get over that poster attacking you with taehyun smirking like he accomplished something big 😭😭 and beomgyu being his accomplice that’s so funny but i hate that it kept falling on you like >:( leave my wifey alone 🥺🥺🩷 i wanna see everything!!

i’ll try to listen to it asap!! i loved love dive by ive so i feel like i’ll like i am as well :3 hehe i feel like you might like koraci by hurricane actually since it’s a slower song and i love it 🥺🥺

WAAAAAH THE MOODBOARD IS SO PRETTYYYY 🥹🥹 i think i’d have to go for all eras!!

star - i think i like the ones where they’re at tables (idk the name of the concept rip 😭)

magic - arcadia!! 🥹 i love the darker look and the play with lights

eternity - starboard they look so cozy and mystical at the same time they’re night dream fairies 🥺🥺

blue hour - omg i do not remember the names but the first one where taehyun has like that crop top he looks SO babygirl 😭

freeze - WORLD WORLD WORLD i’ve always told you how much i love it they look like ice fairies!!! 🥹

fight or escape - green and black striped sweater all the way!! i love it 🤭 bbg tyun is always superior!!

thursday’s child - hate cause… 😈😏

temptation - lullaby i love it so much 🥺

gaaaah headache too? :(( i’m so sorry mommy i wish i had been there to help 😞 i’m glad you’re feeling better and i hope you get to sleep asap and that you’ll sleep well 🥺🥺🩷

i wanna hold you so much and cuddle my love 🥺🥺🩷 my sweet crystal gem 🥺🥺💎🩵🩷 i love you so much you’re my everything 🥺🥺😚🩷

#crystal gem 💎 #my girlfriend is the best :(( #no more period cramps for my mommy please 👿 #period cramps shouldn’t even be a thing #i wish we could be at our little cottage rn so we could chill together i miss you i want some alone time with you 🥺🥺😭 #my love you’re so adorable and amazing 🥺🥺🩷 #i hope you have sweet dreams 🥺😚🩷🩵💎

[clouds-rambles]

Hey bestie may I request diluc,childe,zhongli,and venti having a bad nightmare over their s/o wanting to break up with them and when they wake up their s/o isn’t there but really they’re in another room or something if that makes sense!! Thank you 🤑

Hi bestie positively evil... i love it <3 nobody question why zhongli and the reader are married in all my headcanons thanks lmao

Pairings; (Seperate) Diluc, Childe, Zhongli, and Venti x reader

Warning(s); panic, nightmares, hurt/comfort, injury mention

Keep reading under the cut!

Diluc

Diluc wakes with a start, his brows furrowed as he takes a moment to arrange the events of his nightmare in his head

Both you and he had a particularly explosive argument after he had come back injured from a night protecting Mondstat 

You had left the winery after exclaiming that you refuse to date someone who has such a lack of regard for his own life. In the long run you’d be saving yourself from further heartbreak if he ended up dead on the front porch

Diluc wonders if dream you could be right...

The red-head finally notices the cold side of the bed you should be sleeping on. He more than remembers going to sleep with you

Panic sets in at the bottom of Dilucs stomach. He must be imagining things right? You’re probably just in the bathroom

A beat passes

Then three

No, you’re not in the bathroom. He would have heard you by now...

What if the dream was actually what had happened last night. A breath catches in the mans throat as he gets out of bed and throws a shirt on

If he couldn’t find you in his home has he truly lost you?

Diluc speedily walks through the halls of his home, checking the spare rooms, the study, the library, the living room, the dining room, the

Diluc opens the door to the kitchen his heart threatening to break out of his chest at the pace it’s beating when he finally spots you drinking a cup of tea, in your pajamas

Thank the archons it was just a dream

“Diluc, honey, are you okay?” you ask getting up from the table in the kitchen to your sweating, hyperventilating partner

Diluc says nothing but opts to hugging you, his head bowing to your chest as he breaths you in

“Diluc, you’re worrying me” you tell him returning his embrace and rubbing circles on his back

“You weren’t in bed” is all he offers to tell you. You don’t push him on the details of why he is so panicked

“I couldn’t sleep so I came down for a herbal tea” you explain kissing the man on his bed of fluffy hair “I have a cup left in the kettle, I can pour one out for you” you offer

“Please” he breathes, but doesn’t move to let you go from the embrace, you can stand to hold him and tell him sweet nothings for a little while. Tea can always be reheated

Childe

It would only be right, and he suspected as much. You had told him that because of what has recently transpired in Liyue you cannot find yourself to love a brutal harbinger

Maybe its for the best. Childe concludes not paying much attention to his weeping heart. Maybe, you’d be happier not to be under the constant eye and scrutiny of the Qixing, the Milleth, and the watchful eye of Childes own fatui informants

Without much pause form Childes last thought the man finds himself waking in his room, unsure if the dream was reality or his mind playing tricks on him, he feels your side of the bed and notices a distinct lack of warmth... and you

He cries

Childe curls himself up in a ball determined to not get caught by anyone showing such an extreme and out of character emotion, he let himself cry. He’s pretty sure he’s sobbing loudly but he doesn’t care. It’s just him in the house anyway. The one person that he doesn’t mind seeing such emotions has left him

That’s until he hears the distinct click of the bedroom door open “Oh my archon Childe, are you okay?” you ask quickly making your way to the side of his bed and placing a hand on his shoulder

The man looks up to you, he isn’t sure if you’re real 

“I thought-” he starts “I had a-” he tries to find his words without seeming like a crazed person “You weren’t-” 

“It’s okay babe, I’m right here. I’m not planning on going anywhere” you console “I just had an epiphany in my dream and I had to write it down” you add explaining your absence. Childe nods along 

“Stay” he tells you as you wipe the tears out of his eyes. You nod and hum

“Of course” you lay onto the bed and let Childe wrap himself around you

You hum him to sleep and whisper sweet nothings

Zhongli

‘I can’t love you anymore Zhongli, I feel obligated to come back to Liyue after every adventure, it’s starting to take a toll on me’

‘But our vows, [name] we made a contract at the altar’

‘To love each other, yes? Zhongli there’s no love left in this marriage, you sleep in the spare bedroom whenever I’m back, we sit in silence over dinner, I don’t think I’ve kissed you in months. The lack of love itself is the breach in the contract’

‘But I-’

‘Think about it, do you really feel the same love that you felt on the day we got married?’

‘[name]-’

Zhongli wakes up with a start, his heart beats a little fast for a second. The man convinces himself it’s just a dream he had, but the coldness of your side of the bed seems to speak otherwise

In all fairness, Zhongli should have rationalised his dream before he started wondering the house like a mad man. The only time he sleeps in the other bed is when you’ve suffered an extreme injury, dinners are often spent with jolly laughs and conversation. And Zhongli prides himself on the amount of affection he gives you around the house... and in the bedroom

But most things aren’t making sense in his head right now

“Zhongli my love” you call him upon noticing him in the hall. You had just come out of the bathroom after a midnight toilet break “Are you okay darling?” you ask placing a hand on his shoulder

The tenseness in Zhongli’s shoulders dissipate as soon as you initiate the touch

“I love you” he tells you, the declaration is out of nowhere to you. But you smile at him and embrace him

“And I love you too” you pause bringing up your hand baring the ring that sits on it “And this ring is a reminder of our vows and my unyielding love to you” you tell him with a smile

Zhongli chuckles at you and returns your hug “You seem to always know how to comfort me my dear”

“It’s because I’m a mind reader” you jest matching your spouses chuckle

Venti

Disappeared. So much so that the thousand winds could tell Venti that you were in fact not in Mondstat and had travelled to Liyue from the time Venti was playing music in the tavern to when he knocked for you early the next morning

The only trace you left was a letter. Unmistakeably written by your hand

‘Venti, writing this in a letter is much easier than saying this to your face. I am quite simply tired of your antics, no matter try to talk to you, you seem to always brush me off. Be it the nights you spend at the tavern, my general concern when you disappear for days at end just to tell me you were at the thousand winds temple, stormterrors lair, or windrise, no matter how much I tell you I checked all three. Being in a constant state of concern isn’t good for me, it’s emotionally draining and I’m terrified of finding you dead somewhere, despite your archon blood. By the time you read this I’ll be in Liyue where I’ll be staying with a friend for a while. Tell me I’m going somewhere you can’t follow, and I’ll tell you this is how I have felt many a night. I wish I could have kept loving you, [name]’

A harsh way to break up Venti admits to himself rereading the paper a few times before waking up

A dream?

Venti holds his chest, surely a dream couldn’t conjure such a horrific sinking feeling that makes him want to just vomit

Looking to your side of the bed for your comfort the sinking feeling intensifies when he doesn’t see you

So it wasn’t a dream? Venti doesn’t want to call on his kin, the thousand winds, again just to be told once more that you’re currently in Liyue sipping tea with this cousin you had mentioned in the letter 

The archon sits up in bed and takes deep breaths, he doesn’t want to explain to anybody that he had a panic attack over your horrific breakup letter, no no

After calming his breaths Venti steps out of bed with a shaky few steps before walking downstairs to engage in the typical breakout routine. Snacking. Maybe when you left you had elected to ignore some of the snacks you love to litter about your abode

When Venti walks in to the living room towards the kitchen he sees you nursing your head on the couch

“[name]?” he asks in almost disbelief

“Hm,” you answer before looking up to Venti “Oh hey love, sorry I’ve got a headache” you greet properly after a moment. Venti grins at you which causes you to tilt your head. Why is your headache so grin worthy? Weird...

“Would you like some paracetamol?” he asks walking beside you, you shake your head

“I just took some” you reply looking up at your partner “Though I’d love to rest my head on your thighs” you add. Venti more then obliges and settles down on the couch

“You know I had the strangest dream” Venti tells you after a prolonged amount of silence, you hum to let him know you’re listening “You left me” he says bluntly

Oh

Damn

You bring yourself up to Venti’s face with a smile and give him a kiss “I love you Venti, I wouldn’t leave you for even the prettiest lyre” you half console half jest

“That’s because the prettiest lyre is mine” Venti chuckles and you nod pressing another kiss to Venti’s lips

guys it’s 2.42am I’m so sorry if there’s grammatical errors, my brain isn’t catching up rn

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #zhongli x reader #venti x reader #genshin diluc #genshin childe #genshin zhongli #genshin venti #diluc #childe #zhongli #venti #hurt/comfort #nightmares

[maximoffcarter]

New Year's Eve.

Pairings: Natasha x reader

Summary: Usual New Year's Eve party! Only this time, it's a little different...

A/n: Back to writing cause- why not. A little happiness even if I'm not feeling my best. Hope you enjoy and Happy New Year!

Tony made the best parties. Y/n had to give him credit for that. But Christmas Eve party had been enough and now they were about to have another for New Year’s, and she got the whole hype for it because of course- it was New Year’s Eve. A new year ahead of them. Leaving all behind, new starts, -she knew they made parties to actually get drunk, not the big hype of the holiday- and yet she wasn’t too convinced of actually joining them.

If it wasn’t because Natasha, she would probably had made up an excuse and stay the whole time in her room. But she knew she’d be there, and she would hate to think that someone else would try to get Natasha. It made her blood boil but also it was ridiculous because she hadn’t done anything to start with, and she was way too shy to even make a move. So whoever did it before her, really had the guts and she had respect for them. She wished she could be as bold as other people was, even Bruce had the balls to try, even if Natasha had rejected him, which made her wonder why…

But she still knew she didn’t have a chance. Even if Natasha flirted with her, she knew it was part of her personality, she loved to tease everyone, even if Steve had said that he had never seen Natasha acting the way she did around her with anyone else, but she also knew Steve was only trying to push y/n to do it, so she knew that maybe it wasn’t true. It was confusing at some point, but she was afraid to lose the friendship she had with Natasha, so maybe things were supposed the stay the way they always were.

____________________

“What are you wearing for the party?” Steve looked at y/n.

Y/n furrowed her brows as she looked at Steve. “Since when do you ask those kinds of questions?”

“Just trying to start a conversation.” Steve shrugged.

Y/n turned to look at him and raised her brow. “Speak.”

Steve sighed. “Why not trying?”

“Steve-“

“If I were you I wouldn’t lose more time. It’s Romanoff, why are you so afraid?”

“Because she’s been my best friend for years. Even before this whole thing of avengers.” Y/n sighed. “Steve, you don’t get it. I’m terrified, I can’t lose Natasha.”

Steve nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Y/n shrugged. “It’s okay. I just wish it was easier, but- I can’t lose her.”

“Can’t lose who?” Clint asked as he walked into the kitchen.

Y/n looked at Steve and widened her eyes as if they could communicate in that way. “Uh- the chance of seeing-“ He turned to look at y/n.

Y/n sighed and rolled her eyes. “Pepper yelling at Tony.”

Clint looked at them and furrowed his brows. “What?”

“You know…Tony always does a dumb thing and Pepper end up yelling at him. It’s funny.” She shrugged as she stood up and left the kitchen before Clint could ask more questions.

Clint looked at Steve and raised his brow. “What is she-“

“Don’t ask me.” Steve shook his head as he also left the kitchen.

____________________

Y/n was too focused staring at her closet as she tried to figure out what she could wear for the party. The thought of everyone dressing up and looking fancy made her regret not buying more formal clothes. Not that she was one to wear many dresses or suits, but once in a while she liked to look presentable and to feel…fancy. She remembered Pepper had told her she could always help and even let her borrow one of her dresses, but Pepper’s were always way too fancy. Though it was- a fancy party. She groaned as she kept looking, not hearing the door opening.

“Y/n?”

“Natasha!” Y/n jumped as she looked at Natasha standing in the door with that grin of hers. “What are you- what are you doing here?”

“Just passed by to see how you were doing.” Natasha looked at her and then at the closet. “Outfit problem?”

“Sort of. Might go to Pepper.”

Natasha nodded. “Good.” She grinned. “Glad to know you’re going.”

“You’d be lost if I wasn’t.” Y/n grinned.

Natasha chuckled as she nodded. “Probably. I think is the other way around.” She smirked.

“Maybe.”

Natasha nodded. “I’ll see you later. Don’t be late.”

“Depends on the traffic.” Y/n teased as Natasha rolled her eyes before closing the door.

Y/n sighed as she looked back at the closet. She knew Natasha always looked so good and she wanted to impress, and she actually felt like wearing a dress and heels, even if it wasn’t her thing, but it was a “special” day so why wouldn’t she? She decided to go to Pepper and nervously knocked on the door, opening it when she heard Pepper’s voice.

“Y/n! What’s going on?” Pepper offered a smile.

Y/n sighed. “So I- kinda wanna impress someone tonight and-“

“And that someone is Natasha Romanoff.”

Y/n’ eyes widened. “What? I-“

“No need to deny it. I know it.” Pepper winked at her as she smirked. “Short or long dress.”

Y/n groaned. “Short.”

____________________

Everyone seemed to be having fun; the music was loud, everyone looked so fancy and happy. Y/n’s nervousness was eating her alive as she looked around the room from the door. She had been standing there for about 10 minutes now, only staring at all the people that filled the big room. It wasn’t the first party she had been to, but for some reason today felt different. Suddenly, her breath hitched as she looked at Natasha; a beautiful black dress hugging her figure, the way high heels looked do good on her, and her short red hair framing her face just beautifully. She swallowed hard as she stared her, not being able to take her eyes away from her.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

Y/n jumped as she suddenly had Pepper by her side. “Don’t do that!”

Pepper chuckled. “Just go for it. Don’t be too shy. You look beautiful.”

“It’s not the fact that I don’t look beautiful, it’s just- Natasha.”

“Everything will be okay. Now go before other people decide to do it first.” Pepper smiled as she disappeared into the crowd.

Y/n sighed as she shook her head, trying to get her body to actually move, but just as she was about to walk into the room, she bumped into someone, making the other person laugh.

“I’m sorry, I didn- Nat- hi.”

Natasha chuckled. “Hello to you too.” She raised her brow. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you.” Y/n chuckled nervously as she smiled.

Natasha grinned. “Would you like a drink?” Y/n nodded. “Let’s go then.” Natasha suddenly grabbed y/n’s hand and pulled her with her to walk into the crowd. Y/n’s heart stopped for a moment at the feeling of their hands together. It wasn’t like they hadn’t done this before, but it felt- nice.

After getting drinks, they both had started a conversation with Steve and Tony, just joking around. Y/n seemed to have calmed down after all, feeling lighter and actually enjoying the party- mostly the drinks-. The whole environment had felt lighter in some way, she trued to enjoy every moment of it, but also noticed how Natasha had not left her side all night. It felt weird because Natasha normally went around the room talking to people and just being part of the whole party. But everywhere y/n went, Natasha followed, not that she minded anyway.

It wasn’t until later that Natasha had decided it had been enough of socializing that she pulled y/n away from the people and they both walked out to the balcony. Y/n furrowed her brows as she looked at Natasha.

“Nat? What’s going on?”

“I just…didn’t feel like staying in there anymore.”

“And you brought me here because…?” Y/n raised her brows.

“I didn’t want to be alone.” Natasha shrugged.

Y/n nodded. She turned back to the door as she heard someone yelling that the ball would drop in a few minutes. She then turned her attention back to Natasha. “Are you okay?”

“They were staring.”

“Who?”

“Men. Even women.”

Y/n furrowed her brows. “Staring at what? I thought you were used to people staring.” She chuckled as she joked.

“You.”

Y/n’s heart stopped for a moment. “What?”

“They were staring at you. The whole time. I turned and they ate you with their eyes.” This whole time, Natasha was staring away from her, not daring to meet y/n’s stare.

Y/n looked down at her dress. “I guess it’s the dress, I just-“ she then looked back at Natasha. “What is the problem with that?”

“There’s not-“ Natasha sighed. “I didn’t like it.”

Y/n furrowed her brows. “The dress? I mean, I-“

“That they were staring at you.” Natasha finally looked at y/n. “It sounds stupid but- I didn’t like it.”

“3 minutes!” Someone inside yelled.

“Natasha, it’s only a dress. And I mean- I’m not used to having people staring at me, not that anyone does it anyway.” She chuckled.

“I do.”

Y/n looked at Natasha for a moment as she swallowed. “I didn’t-“

“I hate that they stare because they desire you.” She licked her lips. “The way I do.”

Y/n’s heart stopped once again at her words, suddenly feeling sweaty and not minding the cold wind that hit her skin. “What?”

“I thought you did too. But- you’ve been acting weird around me, and I’ve seen you talking to Steve, I thought you didn’t want to have to do anything with me.”

“Natasha, that’s not it.” Now or never. “I’m in love with you!” Not like that you idiot! “I-I mean-“

“1 minute!”

Natasha grinned at the words. “Are you?”

“I just-“ Y/n swallowed hard. “I do.” She whispered softly.

Natasha smirked as she walked closer to y/n. “I didn’t quiet hear you.”

“10 seconds!”

Y/n breathed heavily as she looked into Natasha’s eyes. “I do.”

“6…”

“I thought so.” Natasha grinned.

“5…”

“Don’t play with me.” Y/n shook her head.

“4…”

“I’m not.”

“3…”

“Then- if you don’t kiss me now, I swear-“

“2…”

She didn’t hear the big one, she didn’t hear the fireworks, she didn’t hear all the screaming and the loud music because the only think she could think about was Natasha’s lips on hers. Everything around them was suddenly silent, the only thing she could focus on were Natasha’s lips and her hands holding her neck. She didn’t know when her hands had landed on Natasha’s waist or when they had become so close to each other, but…everything felt so perfect.

She slowly pulled away as she felt the need to breath but rested her forehead against Natasha’s. They both smiled softly as they tried to process what had happened.

“You were saying?”

Y/n chuckled. “You idiot.” She moved a little away but kept her arms around Natasha’s waist. “You knew.”

“Of course. I know you.” Natasha smirked.

“Couldn’t you just- I don’t know- say it like a normal person?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Y/n laughed as she shook her head. “So…are you?”

Natasha’s smile softened. “I don’t go kissing people just because.” She raised her brow. “I am.”

Y/n bit her lip as she smiled. “Great.”

“Now that we’ve kissed…you’re stuck with me for a whole year.”

“How about many years?”

Natasha grinned as she nodded. “I like that better.”

“Me too.” Y/n smiled as she pulled Natasha for another kiss. “Maybe we should get inside. Now I do feel the cold and I’m freezing.” She said softly against her lips as she chuckled.

“We could go to my room.” Natasha smirked.

“Romanoff! Not even a date?” Y/n acted surprised.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “I talked about warming up. Like cuddling, you dirty mind.”

“Mmm.” Y/n bit her lip. “I liked the other idea better.” She teased.

“Then let’s not waste more time.” Natasha smirked. “Oh…by the way- I do love the dress very much. But it’s only for me to see, and for me to take it off.” She whispered against y/n’s ear as she bit her lip.

Y/n shivered slightly at the words but tried to stay calm as she walked with Natasha. They both laughed as they ran inside like two teenage girls. Clint and Steve saw the whole thing, Clint handing $20 to Steve as he scoffed while Steve laughed. Totally a different party, but with a better ending.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #black widow x reader #black widow x you #scarlett johansson

[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 

#alright here we go again #shes up fr now jfdkvkd #seonghwa #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa imagines #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #seonghwa series #ateez series

[mysticalrambling]

Ending It All Part 2 (C.E)

A/N: Here you go guys. Much awaited part 2 is here. I am so in love with this particular fan fiction and hope you guys like it. If you want me to write any blurbs related to this series, do let me know.I am open to requests.

._._._._._.

Part 1 

Chris Evans Fan fiction (Fan fiction Masterlist)

Summary: Chris regrets divorcing you and he tries to mend the relationship. However, you have already moved on with Tom Hiddleston and are quite happy. He has to just stand back while you and your children become closer to Tom and it is all his fault.

Warnings: Angst all the way.

._._._._._.

“Coming in?” Chris turned his face towards you with a questioning look in his eyes.

“No, I have some work. Just wanted to drop the kids off myself.” Your ex husband’s house was on your way so you just saved him a trip.

“Not even for coffee, darling?”

“Sorry but I will have to say no.” You still got flustered when he called you with nicknames. You had once decided to tell him to stop calling you with all these terms of endearment but you couldn’t build up the courage to do it.

It has been over a year since your divorce and the moment you think you are over him, he is right there to bring those feelings back. You were a mess when he moved out and you had to see him on the weekends for the kids. It looked like you were drowning and you couldn’t come up for fresh air. It was exhausting but after several months, it didn’t hurt that much. It didn’t feel like your heart was tearing into shreds. You felt numb but that was better than feeling like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

“That’s fine. See you Sunday?”

These were the only few sentences that were spoken between the two of you since the divorce. This was your new normal and you were starting to adjust to it. “Yeah, bye.”

“Who wants pancakes?” Sighing, he turned around and asked in a fake, cheerful voice. He didn’t get to be disappointed. These were the the seeds that he sow and he had to reap the results.

“I do.” A collective chorus came from the living room as they had already started to play with Dodger. Dodger was adopted from a shelter home about two weeks into the divorce. Loneliness was a destructive force and Chris hadn’t come to that realization until he was sitting in his home at eight, all alone. No laughter, no mess, no companionship. He went out that day and got a new dog. The apartment was eating him alive because it was a reminder of his ‘new life’. More like his ruined life.

“Daddy, you goin’ to be there for my match?” Jace looked up at his father and hoped that he wasn’t going to say no. There have been too many occasions this past year where he was not there for his children like Easter or Mia’s first day of school. He was either too busy with his career or he couldn’t bear to be with his family knowing that he wouldn’t be going home with them. He wasn’t strong enough to handle that truth.

“I’ll be there but I have work afterwards so I can only be there for half time.” The apologetic tone was all too familiar to the kids now so they just stayed quiet.

Chris noticed their disappointed look and continued, “When I get back, we’ll go to Disneyland for the whole weekend.”

“Mommy and Tommy will be going as well?”

Stopping in between making the pancakes, he asked with a venom laced tone, “Tommy who, Jace?”

“Mommy’s new friend. We like him.” Your son continued petting the dog without realizing the damage he is doing to his father. “New friend” was always a code for boyfriend and Chris didn’t know what to do with that information.

He knew that you had gone on a few dates with Tom Hiddleston because of the paparazzi. But he didn’t know that you both were serious. Your kids knew about him so it was pretty damn serious.

“He won’t be going with us.” Speaking with finality, he resumed cooking. You were his and that was not going to change. He knew he was being unfair but when it came to you, he lost all rationality.

“But he is our new dad.” Mia whined from her place and Chris just looked at her with a wounded look. His babygirl was putting someone else in his place.

His voice boomed throughout the house and both the kids looked at him with tears in their widened eyes, “I’m your only dad. Don’t you ever say that.”

“‘m sorry, daddy. Didn’t mean to make you mad.” Her chin wobbled and Chris was quick to realize his mistake. It was not your children’s fault. It was not your fault. It was his fault.

“Not your fault, baby. But you only have one daddy and that’s me.” Kissing her forehead, he wiped the single tear that managed to escape her blue eyes.

“’kay.” The kids got distracted again but Chris did not forget. He was still seething from the inside because Tom may have taken you away from him but he damn well couldn’t take his children.

They all get ice cream afterwards and the kids fall asleep in their rooms that Chris built from scratch. It was a lengthy process because he just kept remembering the times when he decorated their nursery with you. Such a beautiful memory and he was ruining it. The guilt ate him up inside when he realized that he may not get to ever decorate a nursery for your children again. He may not get to expand his family with you again. Again, it was his fault.

“Sorry, ‘m late. Work was hectic today.” Everything was so busy today because your boss signed up a new contract and he has been impossible to work with. You just wanted to go home and sleep for the whole week.

“It’s okay. They’re sleepin’ upstairs. Listen, we need to talk.” He was too consumed by anger and hurt to notice that you were too exhausted for everything.

“Go on.” You urged him, figuring that he might say that he won’t be able to make it to your son’s match. This was what most of your conversations were based on; him saying that he is too busy to be present at occasions related to your children.

“Why are my children referring to your boyfriend as dad?” He nothing but spat that sentence.

“I- I didn’t know about any of this. I’ll talk to them.” Stuttering, you tried to mediate the situation but nothing seemed to get through to him at the moment.

“No need. I already did that but for next time, keep your boyfriends away from my children.”

“Our children and I don’t let anyone near my children. We are serious.” You were offended by his crude tone and you weren’t just going to let him walk all over you.

“You can’t be serious with him. As a matter of fact, you can’t be serious with anyone.” Your ex husband declared it like it was a law. He didn’t know how to react to what you said. All the pain was converted into anger because that was his current form of expression.

“Are you serious?” This was all too much for you to handle. How could he say that?

“Yes. You only belong with me. I regret it so much (Y/N).” Chris’s expressions told you where he was going.

“Oh, stop. You can’t just do that. Can’t come bargin’ in my life and mess it all up again. I am happy.”

Chris reached out his hand but you took a step back. He was not allowed to touch you anymore. “I was mistaken. My career is not above you, darlin’. Never was.”

“You made me feel worthless. You made me feel as if I was the reason our marriage ended. Won’t allow myself to get sucked back into this relationship.”

“I know I broke our family. I tore us apart and didn’t even apologize for it properly. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” There was a stream of tears running down his face and you wanted to wipe them away but you resisted.

There were still times when you wished that you were still happily married to Chris. That you still had your perfect, little family. The divorce made you feel worthless and lonely. There were times when you couldn’t even look at your children because they were the exact replica of your ex husband. You once adored the fact that they were his carbon copy. However, now you couldn’t help but get angry. How could he leave little pieces of himself behind and think that you could move on with your life.

It was all because you were with another man. He never said all these things when you were alone and you suffered from depression. There were days when you couldn’t get out of bed to get your kids ready for school. You knew that Jace had informed him because he was really worried about you and he always shared his troubling thoughts with Chris. But he didn’t do anything about it. He stayed quiet and you had to pull all the pieces back together yourself. It was all tape and glue. Your ex husband didn’t get to come back and dismantle your progress. You wouldn’t let him.

“You can’t do this. Can’t come back. I am with Tom now so stop trying to fix things that you already broke.” Your face was red with anger and all the energy was drained out of your body.

“Please, just give me a chance.”

“No!” You couldn’t choose Chris again. You had to choose yourself. You chose to think about your needs and your feelings for the first time in seven years. That’s why you agreed to go on a date with Tom. He surpassed your expectations the first time and you knew that he could be your partner. No one could compare to Chris but Tom made his own place in your heart and you were glad about it. You continued on, “Tom is good for me so please don’t ruin my happiness again.”

Tom was great. He was good with the kids and he was slowly becoming an integral part of your life. You still missed Chris because that man was the love of your life for seven years and those feelings can’t just disappear with a single piece of paper. You were glad to have Tom in your life and you knew that as time would pass, you will love him with your whole heart. However, a small part of you would never forget Chris and would always wonder about the what ifs. What if you were still together? What if you had more children? What it you got to grow old together? Broken dreams are what hurts the most.

“I don’t want to be a cause of that. Not again. But I want to make things right.” He unintentionally came closer to you, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Sorry I wasn’t there for our kids. Sorry that I broke you, baby.”

“A sorry doesn’t fix anything.” His chest was hallowing from inside out but he didn’t want to back down. Not now. Not ever.

“Just answer one question for me. Are you truly happy?” A tremble was prominent in his voice but you tried to ignore it.

“I-I am. For a long time, I wasn’t but I am now.” You spoke with such conviction that he knew you were over him.

You would always love Chris but now it was time for you to move on with your life. It was time to leave the past and delve into the future. Chris would always own a piece of your heart but you are going to allow Tom to have an opportunity as well. You will open your heart again to love. You were sure now.

“Okay. I will get the kids for you.” He backed off like he promised he would. You knew at that moment that it was all over.

Watching you drive away with his kids was heart breaking for him and he just watched helplessly. Chris still wanted to cry, beg and apologize. He wanted you to take him back but it was all his fault. He ruined you once, he couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t interrupt your new life. It doesn’t all revolve around him but he was okay to remain on the sidelines while you enjoy your life. He will be there for you if you needed him.

You are happy and that should be enough for him but he wants to be selfish again. He wants to fight for you but it’s all too late. You were with someone else. He lost his chance.

Wednesday rolled in pretty quickly and Chris dreaded going to the match. You were going to be there with your new boyfriend but he didn’t want to miss his son’s game. He could only be there till half time already so it wouldn’t be that awkward.

“I just wanted to be here for Jace. Won’t cause any problems.” Chris took a seat beside Mia when he saw you shifting uncomfortably. The seat that should have belonged to him was currently being occupied by your boyfriend but Chris just bottled up all his feelings. It was not right to still think of you as his wife.

“It’s okay. Let’s just forget about everything.” You wanted to move on and did not want anything to hold you back.

“Okay. Mia, you want Kit Kat?” Offering her a large chocolate bar, he started talking with his daughter so that he could distract himself from you and Tom.

“What is happening, love?” Tom questioned when he saw that his former co-star did not even glance at him properly.

Chris and Tom were not the best of buds but they were still good acquaintances. He thought that dating you wouldn’t be a problem because Scarlett had informed him that Chris was the one who asked for divorce. However, this situation made him realize that Chris was jealous. He still had feelings for you and Tom didn’t know how to react to that.

“Nothing of importance. Let’s just focus on my baby boy.” Saying that, you cheered for Jace as he made his first goal. He was an exceptional player like his father and you knew that he would pursue football as his career. Jace was really passionate about football. If Chris didn’t become an actor then he would have definitely tried out for football.

There were times when he used to take you to the park so you would play with him. It was your thing. Maybe he had replaced you with someone by now as well but what you didn’t know was that Chris had stopped playing football altogether. Like many things in his life, it reminded him of you and it was just too much to bear.

“You are doing great, buddy.”Jace immediately asked Chris to pick him up as you gave him his Captain America water bottle. It was half time and Chris had to leave for shooting. He was getting late but he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“Thank you, mommy. Ollie doesn’t listen to me that much so coach is angry at him.” Babbling on, he rested his head on his father’s shoulder.

“Okay, buddy. I have to leave now but I will call you when your game is finished.”

“Won’t be going with us to Chick-fil-A?”

“Uhh-” He cluelessly glanced at you because he didn’t know what his son was talking about.

“I wanted to give him a treat after the match.” Tom butted into the conversation to prove that he was a part of the kid’s lives as well.

Chris could have actually made it to the restaurant because he would be free in an hour tops. However, he decided against it. He had to take a step back for you. Of course, he would be there for his children but Tom should be given a fair chance as well.

“I won’t be able to make it buddy. You enjoy with Mommy and Tom. I’ll take you and Mia to Disneyland this weekend as I promised.”

“Okay, daddy. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.” Giving him to you, he turned to leave. It was hard for him to do this but it had to be done. Chris wiped his eyes discreetly as he saw you all laughing together. This was his fault and he would have to bear the consequences.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

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A/N: This story had me in tears from the very start. I cried when I was writing it. Again, I am open to blurbs for this series and other requests. Tell me if you want to be added to my tag list.

Tag list: @peculiarpenman, @kalopsia-flaneur, @justile, @iguessweallcrazyithinktho, @jessyballet, @caanyoonmoon, @coldmuffinpartycloud, @marvelfansworld, @agnesk, @lauracontisstuff, @deepintothenature, @xcaptain-winterx, @nostxlgia18, @sophiaedits , @luckyladycreator2, @mrspeacem1nusone

Like, comment and reblog.

P.S. If you want blurbs and epilogue related to this series, please send in requests. I will need some ideas.

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#rachelleblodgettwrites #my writing #tv shows #wattpad #chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans fluff #chris evans angst #chris evans x reader #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans x kids #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #dad chris evans #steve rogers x y/n #andy barber angst #andy barber x female reader #captain america #mcu #my imagination

[zodiyack]

Rude! (3,000+ Follower Fic Special 1/3)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female!Hopper!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Billy stuff, lyrics, fluff

Song: Rude by Magic!

Words: 1,798

Summary: Billy's love for Hopper's daughter is too strong to be stopped by the tough Chief Jim Hopper. Despite being told "not in a thousand years", he plans to love her regardless.

Note: Thank you so so much! I love you all, and writing your ideas, as well as sharing mine with you, has been so fucking fun and amazing! I'm sorry for my lack of words, I wish being an author came in handy with writing this, however, all I can say is that I love you all from the bottom of my heart. I've seen people do shout-outs, and ask-related stuff with their follower things, and I may do that, I'm not sure. For now, I hope you enjoy this... Thank you all, again!

Also 1/3 means that there will be two other fics released for the 3,000+ follower present!

Taglist: @urie-bowie-mercury, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @dpaccione

Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

"Saturday morning, jumped out of bed and put on my best suit. Got in my car and raced like a jet all the way to you. Knocked on your door with my heart in my hands, to ask you a question, 'cause I know that you're an old-fashioned man. Yeah."

Billy was freshly graduated, working as a lifeguard whilst his girlfriend worked her own job, both saving up for their chance to ditch Hawkins and move to California. Sweet Cali. Billy was excited to show the love of his life around the place he called home. Though, physically, he left the salty ocean and windy beach behind, the place never truly left him.

You could see it in his eyes. The waves crashing in his blue orbs. He swore the scent had just barely clung to his belongings; the smell of the tangy air that followed a majority of the state. Working at a pool was the closest he got to the memory of California. Chlorine was most certainly not the salted ocean waters, but with the circumstances, he decided it'd do.

The way his face lit up whenever he talked about his home...it made Y/n more and more excited to see it. His girlfriend had grown up in Hawkins, stayed there her whole life. Never once did the Hoppers leave Hawkins.

But the second that was introduced to Billy, he knew it had to change.

Although they were saving for a big move, Billy had...other things in mind with what to do with his first large pay-check (or series, rather. Working as a lifeguard didn't pay well with just one check). He began to work more shifts to make up for the money he'd spent, and one day after calling in for a day off, he decided to put his plan into action.

"Billy, stop messing with the tie."

"It's annoying." Hands slapped away his attempts of adjusting the black silk tie.

"Well it won't stop being annoying if you keep fucking it up."

For the first time in a long time, Neil Hargrove was calm. Not happy, not amused, not pissed off for some unjust reason- just calm. He wasn't wreaking havoc and he wasn't being an asshole to his son. Billy hadn't seen this side of his dad in quite some time, in fact, he thought something important was going on and he was about to fuck it all up. And then, Susan retreated to the living room with a camera and a freshly ironed suit.

"You're not putting me in that."

"And who asked for your opinion?" Neil deflected with a raised brow. One heavy sigh later and Billy was leaving the bathroom, dawning the whole black and white getup.

Susan clasped her hands over her mouth, a tear leaving her eye, "You look so handsome! Just like your dad!"

Billy rolled his eyes, "Great."

However, his careless attitude was swept under the rug when the blue Camaro pulled up to the police station, interrupting a clearly distressed Chief Hopper bickering with his daughter. Billy had to get himself together before stepping out of the car, jaw slack after seeing the beauty he got to call his date.

"Hello Mr-"

"Don't even try play nice with me, Hargrove. She's not going anywhere with you. End of story." Hopper kept his eyes trained on the blond, body tense like a snake preparing to strike it's prey.

Y/n grabbed Billy's arm, slowly directing him to the car, "And in the sequel, we find out I am going with Billy. End of that story."

"There is no 'sequel.' The writer got drunk and lazy." She paused, turning to face her father who stood tall, arms crossed and face unamused.

"So his daughter picked up where her father left off, and then the sequel was published and the two lived happily ever after, the end."

While her dad attempted to search for a line that would better hers and force her to stay, she pushed Billy toward the driver's side and slid into the car as fast as she could, rolling down the window as Billy started it up. "Bye! I'll be back before midnight!"

The two drove off toward the school, leaving behind a trail of dust and very, very, pissed off Hopper.

Prom was better than Billy thought it would be. He didn't want to go at first, but after Max found out and spoke to her mom about it (the little redhead a cupid-in-the-making), Neil pushed him to go (as he was "doing something else besides being a lazy-no-good rebel"). It was then that he called Y/n and asked if she'd be going.

The suit came in handy. Clashing with his rocker aesthetic, he put it back on once more. The once-annoying tie proved to be somewhat okay in the end.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, but the answer is no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude?

With a deep breath, he ran-over the conversation in his head once more. Like a script for an actor, he had thought of every possible outcome and every possible line for him to face it with. He almost chickened out as his fist rose to the door, but it was too late, for his knuckles rapped against it before he realized he was even knocking.

El opened the door, eyes wide when she saw the familiar mullet and button-down. "Papa..." She muttered as she backed away and out of view.

Hopper traded places with her, his lazy expression sobering up instantaneously, replaced with a grumpy scowl. "Hargrove."

"Mr. Hopper, sir."

"What are you doing on my front porch?"

He swallowed roughly, palms sweaty against his sides. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"You seem to be doing just that right now, Hargrove." Hop crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.

Well, this was certainly not something Billy had thought of. He was on panic mode internally, attempting to find any response that could save his hide and accomplish what he set out to do. Unfortunately, the word-vomit button seemed to be misplaced under the button labeled "help".

"I'd like to marry your daughter, sir."

Hop's eyes grew just as big in size as El's had when she opened the door. He choked on his own surprise, coughing it off, then glaring at the boy in front of him. "Over my dead body, Hargrove. If that's all, I'd strongly advise you to get off of my fucking porch while you're still alive."

I hate to do this, you leave no choice; can't live without her. Love me or hate me, we will be boys- standing at that alter. And we will fly away, to another galaxy, you know. You know she's in love with me, she will go anywhere I go-

"Billy, he's just stubborn."

"No, no, I don't think he likes me."

Y/n sighed, rubbing her boyfriend's back. He hadn't told her of his proposal plans, only that Hop seemed to have it out for him. "It'll take time, but he'll warm up to you!"

"It's been how many years since he's met me?"

"To be fair, your reputation wasn't doing you any good until now..."

"It's not like that was fucking obvious." He slouched further down in the front seat of his Camaro. To Billy, all hope was lost. If he couldn't get Hopper to give him his blessing, he was sure he'd lose his goddamned mind.

Y/n frowned. Her frown flipped around as an idea popped into her head, her lips finding Billy's knuckles and quirking his attention. "Even if he never likes you, I'm not going anywhere."

Billy laughed softly, "he'll fucking kill me if you go against him."

"Eh, that's only if he can catch us."

"You're out of your fucking mind, Y/n Hopper."

"I know."

The rest of the night was spent in the Camaro, of course, doing one of Billy's favorite pastimes. By the time the sun rose, Billy was sneaking a kiss to a giggling Y/n before dropping from her window in the cabin and running to his car, parked far enough that Hop or El wouldn't notice. He blew her one more kiss, which she pretended to catch, then he broke into a sprint.

Maybe, he thought, just maybe; there was still a chance.

His knuckles hit the door again, shifting on his feet nervously. It swung open to reveal Hopper, an unimpressed look bringing no surprise Billy's way. It was quite expected, honestly.

"What." His tone made it clear he wasn't up for fucking around.

"Mr. Hopper, if you just give me one chance to prove to you that-"

"No, no, no, no, no. Let me make it very clear to you that I want you to have nothing to do with my daughter whatsoever. No marriage, no friendship, I don't even approve of you guys fucking or whatever-"

"We're in a serious relationship, sir. It's nothing like you think it is."

This made Hop laugh. He continued to do so, holding his stomach, until he realized Billy was unamused. "Oh, you're serious?... My answer is still no, Hargrove. My answer will always be no. Go find someone else's daughter's heart to break. You're not hurting mine."

"It's not like-"

Before he could even get the words out, he was met with a door in his face. Turned down, again.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, 'cause the answer's still no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude, rude?

Again, again, and again, Billy incessantly pleaded with Hopper. Different tactics were all met with the same answer; rejection.

He held up a sign outside the cabin, only for Hopper to close the curtain and chuckle as he sipped his coffee.

He asked at the door again, only for Hop to threaten to give him a black eye (which was met with "aren't you the sheriff? Isn't that illegal?").

He raced past the police station, Max leaning out the window with another sign, only for Hop to threaten them with holding cells.

He even went as far as to ask Max and El to help, but Hopper had none of that, and sent Max home with a rant full of nos.

However, if Jim Hopper thought any of it would get it into Billy's head that getting his blessing was just not happening- he was as wrong as Nancy when she claimed not to have feelings for Jonathan.

Billy had another plan in mind, and this one was impossible to say no to.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend- but no still means no!"

"Hopper." Billy stood before his desk, interrupting his nice date with a delicious doughnut, and earning a very annoyed glare. "I got Miss Byer's blessing. Aren't you two a thing?"

"You son of a-"

"I got Eleven's too."

"Hargrove, I'm gonna-"

"Before you cuss me out, I think you should know that I've got a stable job, an interview with a mechanic so I have a job when the pool closes for the winter, and I've got a house on the market I'm looking at. I'm devoted to your daughter and she's devoted to me. You may not like me, but I think you're a great dad, better than the one I was unfortunately stuck with. You raised a strong and amazing woman. She's incredible and I admit, she deserves better than me-"

"You don't have to say that twice." Hopper huffed, crossing his arms.

"I know she deserves so much better than me, I'm surprised she's even with me too. But she loves me, and I think you can see that. I love her too. I would never, in a million years, break her heart."

Jim stayed silent for a few minutes. The silence brought uneasiness to Billy, but that was intentional on Hopper's behalf. He finally piped up with a cough, clearing his throat, before his piercing eyes met Billy's blue orbs.

"I'll hold you to that, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude? Why you gotta be so rude?

Bonus:

(after the wedding)

"What was that about a no?" Billy quipped with his infamous smirk.

"You're lucky I'm sheriff, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude?

#billy hargrove x reader #dacre montgomery #billy hargrove #dacre montgomery x reader #stranger things #x reader #all readers #imagine #reader insert #holy shit! #zodiyack #3000 followers #3000 follower special! #thank you guys! #i'm without words- that's how happy i am lmao #also sorry if this is shit writing #i'm still recovering #special #by recovering i mean getting back into the gist of things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #dacre montgomery imagine #x you #rude! #song fic #rude by magic

[huenjin]

don't wanna be friends.

pairing: hyunjin x reader | bff2l!au, pornstar!au

word count: 3.705 words

tw: pornstar!hyunjin, nsfw content — dick piercing!hyunjin, multiple orgasms, breast play, breath play, fingering, cunnilingus, marking, penetration, unprotected sex, dumbification, slight overstimulation, creampie, mentions of reader masturbating to hyunjin's porn and the porn explained in detail.

music rec: damage is done | devin hoffman.

note: this was an nsfw ask originally but it got way past the limit, so tada, made it into a oneshot. if anyone was wondering why it's in this format/theme. unedited, like every other work of mine.

you gulp down the next shot under hyunjin's watchful supervision. you've lost count of the shots you have taken and hyunjin has lost count of how many times he has told you to stop, that you are drinking too much.

"he told me that i can't fuck right. that i should at least pretend to fake it to satiate him," you scoff, another tear rolling down from the brim of your eyes and hyunjin wraps his arms around you, pulling into him to comfort you. "i can't— jinnie, i just don't come when he fucks me. i— maybe something is wrong with me. maybe i just can't orgasm when someone—"

"hush," hyunjin slowly taps your back to keep your thoughts shut. "there's nothing wrong with you, minion. you're fine." he pushes your big round spectacles up, calling you by the name he's always teased you with.

you slam the shot glass down, eyes groggy and head woozy from all the drinks you've gulped down. you lean forward, eyes wide open, glasses sliding down as you look closely at your best friend.

hwang hyunjin is attractive. you've always known your best friend is attractive. his bright eyes that light up at the sight of his dog, kkami, running to him right after you cuddled kkami forever. or the way his face morphs into one of disgust when you threaten to put eggplants into his plate. or the way he'd cuddle you when the weather gets too cold. hyunjin is attractive, both in looks and behaviour.

beyond this, your best friend, hwang hyunjin, is insatiable in the eyes of many women and men, including yours. a pornstar by profession, he knows the ways around women, having them come undone in his hold in minutes — you refuse to believe it's orchestrated. you know how he is in bed or at least what the biz wants him to exhibit and that alone has you trembling.

and to make matters worse in your end, you've orgasmed only once your whole life and that was during the time when you played with yourself while stumbling upon his porn (you were randomly searching for one and the temptation to watch your best friend just exceeded everything).

you knew his profession for so long — hyunjin told it to you over a glass of wine that you spat onto his white shirt the minute he told you about it. the conversation was never spoken about after that.

until today.

"what are you doing, minion? damn," he chuckles, "you really look like a minion with those glasses."

you still once you close in on hyunjin. hands on his chest, eyes fixated on his, you lick your lips and hyunjin's eyes widen, eyes unknowingly trailing downwards till he has to tear his gaze away, reminding himself that it's you, that it's his best friend.

"do you want to fuck me?" liquid courage, indeed.

"you must be kidding me?"

"why? you do this regularly."

hyunjin shoves you away, pushing you back against the couch. his eyes narrows on your figure and you fold your arms. he huffs, eyes glaring at you before looking away. he stretches his arm to take a glass and pour himself a drink, gulping it down and feeling the much needed burn in his throat.

"why?" you whine. "jinnie, that's your job. fuck me. you don't mind it. i'll just be one of those girls."

"i do mind it," he raises his voice. "you're not just one of those girls. fuck, y/n, you're the only constant in my life. why would i fuck that up?"

you bite your lower lip, eyes watering at the rejection suddenly. your drunkenness is what stirs the emotional side in you and your heart is heavy. you just want to be able to fuck like everyone else, just want to feel the bliss your friends talk about, the euphoria they reach.

"wait, are you going to cry?"

"no," you bite your tongue from letting out the sob. "i won't cry. you're not the first guy to reject me. this is normal. no one wants to—"

"y/n."

"—fuck me. who would want to fuck the girl that can't orgasm, let alone fake one?" you let out a fake laugh, tears finally rolling down your eyes.

"oh goodness," hyunjin sighs. he pulls you into him for a hug, rubbing your back soothingly. "you're my best friend, y/n. i shouldn't—"

"i want you to," you look up at him. hyunjin heaves in a huge breath. it catches in his throat as he looks down at you. god, he loves you. he has loved you for years now but who would want to be in a relationship with a guy who fucks girls for a living? not anyone sane. you deserve better. fuck, you deserved so much better than him.

yet, his heart won't stay still. his mind won't stop racing with thoughts he shouldn't normally have about his best friend. heavens, you have hyunjin wrapped around your finger and you don't even know it.

"y/n, don't—"

hyunjin loses his last bit of control over your proposition the minute you place your lips over his. it's exactly as he has envisioned. soft, delicate and everything that kept him away from breaking. you capture his bottom lip, kissing him softly, hands trailing under his sweater. hyunjin feels the goosebumps rising up, your warmth seeping into his. it takes everything in hyunjin to keep his hands away.

you pull away, catching your lower lip with your teeth before letting go and looking away, "you won't even kiss me back. am i that worse? do i kiss bad? jinnie, i just want to be—"

hyunjin has his hands on your face, turning it for you to look at him before he has his lips crashing down on yours, taking your breath away. you heave, breath hitching and you gasp.

hyunjin is aphrodite. the very reincarnation of sin. he creeps into you just as you expected, crawling into your mind and captivating every single sense of yours. your hands are in his hair, tugging at the roots and moving against his body. his hand sprawls over your neck and his thumb presses into the neck, rubbing slow circles. he kisses the top of your lips, your hands tugging at his sweater and you are moaning into his mouth.

you pull away for a second, fingers digging into his clothes, tugging at it to be thrown away and hyunjin obliges. helping you out of yours too, the two of you face each other stark naked. you take him in for the divinity he is in your head, eyes trailing down to his slightly erect dick and you gasp.

it's true. the videos don't lie. he is bigger than you had seen, girth firmer than you had envisioned and the frenum piercing has you salivating. it shines under the lighting, your eyes unable to drift away from it, lips parted slightly and heavens, hyunjin can't take his eyes away from you either. was this what he was missing out all this while in the name of friendship?

his lips are back on yours, your breasts firm against his chest as his cock rubs against your inner thigh. it's messy, heavy and has you panting for breath, chasing after his tongue, wrapped around yours like they never want to let go.

quicksand. this is quicksand. you're falling in too quick; falling into everything hyunjin has to offer way too quickly. and you love it. your mind is rid of thoughts. just hyunjin, hyunjin, hwang hyunjin. he pushes back, still kissing you heavily, till your back hits the soft covers of the couch and he's hovering over you.

hyunjin's tongue licks your lower lip, causing you to moan and he's groaning at the sensation, pulling apart for air few minutes later. he cups your face, thumb brushing the side and you lean into his palm.

"i— we should—"

"no, please don't stop," you beg. "not now. please. we're in too deep to stop."

"but y/n—"

"please fuck me, jinnie. fuck me like you fucked soojin."

hyunjin's eyes widens and he pulls away from you. looking at you as if he's staring into your soul, he gulps. "how did you—" his cheeks redden. "wait—" you bite your lower lip. hyunjin pulls the rubber band that holds his hair up, causing the silver strands to fall forward. he runs his finger through it, pushing it back as he holds it tightly to focus. "you watched my porn."

you gulp, lips drying up and you nod, running your mouth quickly to justify yourself. "i did. it was supposed to be a one time thing but—" you look away. "—i touched myself to that. i fingered myself to you fucking soojin and it's the only time i came."

if hyunjin has been just losing it all this while, now, he has lost it completely. his eyes darken, a light growl leaving his lips as he holds your legs and pulls you closer into his kneeling self. you groan slightly in his grip.

"you want me to fuck you like i fucked soojin?"

"yes—"

"want me to fuck you like some doll, huh?" he bends forward, kissing your neck, sucking at the skin till they stain purple to his pleasure. hyunjin marks you all the way to your breasts, covering your skin with both dark and light marks as you repeatedly confirm, "yes, yes, yes."

hyunjin pulls away, staring at you almost tauntingly, licking his lips and running his hand through his hair. he drops the words like they are heavy. "tell me then. tell me what i did and i'll do the same to you, just like you wished."

"you fuck—"

"no," he shakes his head. "in detail. from the very first scene. you'll get only what you ask for. nothing more. nothing less. so, go on, doll. tell me."

the power you hold is insane. you do not know how to use it, however. having never been given this much power, you look at your best friend for a while before slowly telling him. the words seem foreign to you but if this is how it is going to be, and if this helps you come, you're doing it.

"y-you kissed her first." your voice is barely audible. like you're telling hyunjin a secret. hyunjin catches your lips yet again, tongue presses against your lower lip before he slips it in, tangling it with yours as he kisses you. you moan, eyes closing as your hand wrap around his axle, hands pressed on his back. your fingers plays with the few strands of his silver dyed hair at the nape. he pulls back, waiting for you to continue.

with a little more confidence and the huge amount of liquid courage in you, you demand, "you marked her up like you just did to me. i hate that you marked her up. i hated it so much but turned me on."

hyunjin sucks a hickey right above your breast, speaking into your skin, "you hated it, doll?"

"yes. wanted it to be me." hyunjin's teeth grazes your skin and you moan, "fuck." your fingers pull his hair lightly and hyunjin grunts, teeth biting into your skin, making a dark mark that has you arch your back and your thigh to rub against his cock.

"what else did you see me do, doll?" his mouth trails further down to your breast and you gasp.

"you sucked on her breasts. played with it harshly." hyunjin abides by it, sucking on your breasts, tongue lapping around your nipples and drawing out circles by it. "yes, yes— fuck, jinnie, oh my—" hyunjin finds it seductive as fuck that you never complete your sentences as you moan. and he wants you like that — barely being able to say words besides his name. that's all he needed to hear.

"you played with soojin's other breast at the same time like—" his hand is already on your right breast. it pinched the nipple, twisting it between his thumb and forefinger. the pain shoots up and it clouds your senses, causing you to grind on his cock. your arousal leaks through you, and you feel yourself grow wetter with every single flick of hyunjin's tongue.

his right hand is still on your breast, his lips trail downward. your breath hitches in your throat and you let out a shortened sigh as he breathes lowly against your skin, kissing it before landing right in front of your core, wet with want for the man before you.

"so fucking wet and what for, doll?"

"your cock, oh my god. jinnie, want your cock in me. please." you beg, writhing in his hold as he grabs your breast, fondling it in his hold.

"that's not what i did in that video. go on, continue." it's stern with command and has you spitting out the next in sequence instantly.

"you—" hyunjin is playing with your nipples as he waits for you to speak. his finger twist and turn your nipples and you're squeezing your thighs together in this intense pleasure. "fuck, can't think, jinnie. i don't know. i—"

"no, no," he hushes. kissing your pubic mound and licking small stripes, he mumbles, "you have to remember the only porno that had you come, right?"

"you—" you feel his warm breath all over your core and a gush of arousal oozes out. "you had your mouth on her pussy. you ate her out till she came, oh my god. you ate her out—"

"well done, doll." and his lips are on your wet ones. he licks at the lips, pushing it apart as he takes in your arousal, lapping in to take it all. it's merciless. and if you thought his porn was intense, you forgot all about how hyunjin himself was a walking pornography. the way his tongue licks your lips, tip teasing your entrance as he rubs your clit, slowly. he draws small circles over it, tapping at the engorged button till your toes curl in, knees lift up to bend for your feet to press down. your eyes are squeezed shut and your fingers pull at his hair every time you feel the knot tightening.

the room is filled with lewd noises and your moans, resonating through the whole area for you to hear it out in the silence. it's pornographic. the voices you make resemble those that you heard. hyunjin licks another stripe up your sodden lips before wrapping the plump pair around your clit and sucking on it, loud noise of suckle resonating and causing you to move your hips slightly.

his teeth grazes over your clit, nibbling slightly till you feel the knot clench in your stomach. it's a vortex forming deep within and from the one time experience you have, you know. it's coming. you're so close. hyunjin rubs your clit furiously, mouth moving back your lip as he eats you out. he pulls apart right when he knows you're soon to come and in a second, two of his fingers are deep within you, rubbing against your inner walls and you're crying out his name just like he wanted.

it's hyunjin, hyunjin, hyunjin. that's all he can hear — his name dripping in saccharine from your mouth, topped with all those insatiable moans that leave your lips and hyunjin quickens his pace. the two fingers thrust in and out of you, finding the spot and rubbing at the walls to elicit a particular reaction — hyunjin is searching. searching for that one spot that will have you ruined for him.

"fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, what—"

the minute he touches a particularly soft area, he has you grinding down on him, chanting his name like a mantra and he knows — hyunjin's found your spot. he rubs it as he curves his fingers, having you arch further into him. he sucks on your clit, fingers thrusting in you relentlessly.

and you come undone so easily that it's a surprise how your ex couldn't do this for you. you see the white under your eyelids as you come undone. hyunjin helps you ride it out. he removes his fingers and licks you clean, taking in every single drop of your orgasm.

"told you that you were perfect," he says, looking at you and smiling. he kisses your mound as he lifts your hips up. "you're the most perfect human being ever. so how in the world could anything be wrong with you?" he wipes away the tears rolling down your eyes, as an effect from the intensity of the orgasm you went through. "so, doll, now tell me what else did i do?"

your mind is blank. you can't think of anything. your mind is filled with just the man before you in all his naked glory and how you just want him. "want you, jinnie. please. i want your dick. please want that."

"that's not the answer to my question," he huffs. "did i not lift her legs up like this?" he lifts your legs and places it over his shoulders. his erect cock is angled right and he rubs the head all over your wetness. you hitch and whine, stuttering how much you want him. "did i fuck my doll dumb? did i fuck out all your brains, baby? oh no. should i fuck you more? can you answer that, doll?"

you nod, lips parting. "want jinnie's dick. want it. want it in me."

"as you wish, doll," and he inserts it into you, pushing your walls apart with his fingers till he thrusts completely into you. his piercing underneath his shaft drags against your walls, the cold metal adding the extra sensation that tingles your nerves. his large hands hold your hips up, your ankles hitting his back bone everytime he thrusts into you. he uses his one hand to hold your wrists together above you as he hits your spot over and over again. the friction of his big cock and the frenum piercing is all too much right after one orgasm. the stimulation is over bearing and you know why the girl in the video has her eyes roll up, tongue out and lips swollen.

hyunjin plunges into you and you gush all over his cock, coating almost all of his length with your arousal. hyunjin is barely in but he is already hitting your spot, hot tip brushing against it vicariously and the frenum piercing cold against it. the friction is enough to have the knot tighten so fast and hard that you know this is going to overpower you. hyunjin lets go of you wrists but you hold them above you obediently. his hand trails to hold your breast, squeezing it and fondling with it; the other holding your legs up securely.

with every thrust, his piercing drags against your walls and his balls slap against your cheeks. tears spill down your face as you scream loudly, "jin-ah, fuck. jinnie, jinnie, jinnie. it's too much, oh my god. i can feel it. oh—"

"you're taking it like a good, good doll for me. you can take more. i know you can." he takes his cock out. he wraps his fingers around it and dragging it across your slit and your core, the frenum piercing rubbing against it and you're ready to snap again.

and without any warning, he enters into you again, this time harshly and with a quicker pace. it is fast and hard and has you gripping onto him for the life of yours, your hands moving to hold his biceps, fingers digging into it. hyunjin fucks you like he wants to take you to heaven and back. like he wants to show you everything you are missing out and that there's nothing wrong with you. it's the men. always the men.

"going to fuck you and show you how you should be fucked. how you should be getting it. going to fuck you dumb, doll and have you be mine."

he doesn't stop. hyunjin is grunting and huffing as he thrusts repeatedly in you, his pubic bone hitting your clit and causing short sorts of heightened sensations.

"jinnie! i'm coming. i'm coming. oh fuck, i'm—"

second one in a span of few hours. if you could think properly, you would be surprised at how you came twice. it's surprising that you've come thrice so far in your whole life and all three times were to be credited to hwang hyunjin, your best friend.

you come around his cock, the white flash spreading under your eyelids and you are weeping. you feel the rushing oxytocin clouding your brain as you clench tightly on his cock. hyunjin doesn't stop however, as he chases after his own high, thrusting even faster if it were possible and overstimulating you. in a few minutes, hyunjin is coming in you. hot white spurts of his cum coating your insides as he thrusts his orgasm out, only to pull it out eventually and have his white come and yours poze out and stain the couch.

your eyes are shut and you are panting heavily, chests rising and hyunjin brushes your hair away from your face, wiping the sweat that has accumulated by your forehead. he places your legs down and mumbles, "you okay, minion?"

"hm," you respond. that's all you can say. you were too fucked out to think or do anything. hyunjin chuckles and slowly getting off the couch, he carefully lifts you up into his arms. you snuggle into his chest, wrapping your arms around him. "where are we going?"

hyunjin barely hears you question with how soft it was. you repeat and it is the second time that he hears it perfectly.

"going to clean you up and rest you in bed. you need to sleep well now." you nod, snuggling further into his chest as he carries you into his bedroom.

hyunjin's wrong, though. when he wondered how in the world anything could be wrong with you, he clearly knew there is something wrong with you.

you are too dense to ever realise how deep his feelings are for you.

#hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin #stray kids #skz #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fic #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines #skz imagines #skz scenarios #writings.rue

[yuueee]

𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 fire lord! zuko x fire lady! reader

authors note: Firstly I just want to apologize for the hiatus, I want to be more active from now on! I’m starting finals next week so I’ll thankfully be done with this semester soon and will also have more time to write. Anyways I hope you enjoy!! I also want to apologize if Zuko is ooc here.

requests:

First of all, your tumblr looks sooooo cool! I’m looking forward to reading all of your future work! Imagine this: Zuko is annoyed by people constantly asking him about a future heir, but when one day his friends also start to ask, and even his uncle and his own mother join the baby fever train, it’s too much for him so he complains about it to his wife who only reassures him with her lovely self and her understanding smiles, not telling him yet that she is in fact pregnant. What do you think ?

Can you write an imagine with zuko who is clearly, utterly and soooo obviously in love with the reader (outgoing, courageous, loving) and maybe with the prompt “So you...well...I mean...I could give you a massage?” Thank you a lot! ^^

As the current Fire Lord and Lady, it wasn’t uncommon for the citizens of the Fire Nation to be deeply invested in your relationship - it was to be expected especially due to the uncommon nature of your union. What you weren’t expecting were Zuko’s close friends and relatives being wrapped up in your business as well. Being outside of team avatar, you were naturally more welcoming to his friend's constant questioning, but Zuko on the other hand was not. He couldn’t understand why they cared so much all of the sudden. They hadn’t been as interested when he was in a relationship with Mai - so why did they care so much now?

It wasn’t as if you weren’t getting along with his friends or family - you got along with them quite well and were very loved by them in fact. Outside of them though, you weren’t always as welcomed, unfortunately, the Fire Nation was still coming to terms with having the daughter of an Earth Kingdom General as their Fire Lady. The arranged marriage was put in place to solve several different ‘problems’. After Zuko broke up with Mai several years ago, he hadn’t begun dating anyone else due to being so busy but he’d eventually be expected to have an heir in the next coming years.

Although they had gotten better, tensions among the Earth Kingdom Colonies were still high and both sides were having difficulty keeping them under control. Eventually, an agreement was made for the daughter of a high-ranking Earth Kingdom General to marry Zuko - that daughter being yourself. Arranged marriages certainly weren’t unheard of in either nation - but a union of this sort was definitely unique.

Though he certainly wasn’t thrilled about it, Zuko understood that it was for the good of the people - and it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it anyway. Even with his position as the recently crowned Fire Lord there still wasn’t much he could do.

On the other hand, you understandably had some issues coming to terms with your new situation at first. Despite being known by those around you as friendly and just a joy, in general, to be around - the woman Zuko had first met was quite the opposite. He could recall it like it was yesterday. Though it was awkward and stressful at the time, he now considered it to be the best day of his life.

“She’s in there.” A female servant whispered to the young man quietly, as if she didn’t want to speak loud enough for you to hear from your place at the balcony.

“Thanks,” he replied with a soft smile, bidding the elderly woman goodbye as she shuffled down the hallway. Turning towards you he was faced with a warm tropical breeze. His advisors had arranged for the two of you to meet a couple of weeks before that dreaded day, and for some reason, they thought Ember Island was the appropriate place. A combination of anxiety and general distaste for being on the island was causing him to be quite stressed - which led him to be more awkward than usual.

“Um, hello?” he spoke up faintly, as if not to startle you. He was sure you heard him come in, but you hadn’t turned around since he entered the small room. You stood several feet away with your hands placed on the railing, your [hair-texture] locks sifting gently with each gust of wind along with your predominantly red clothing. It was against what you had wanted to wear that day but it didn’t seem as if you had much a say in anything going on in your life recently.

You understood that doing this would be for the greater good of the Earth Kingdom and that your situation could technically be worse. You could have been married off to some old creep - but if you were being honest with yourself being married to the Fire Lord sounded just as bad. As you turned around though, you were surprised at the face you were met with.

He had a much younger face than you had expected, but the slight hollowness of his cheeks and the worry lines on his forehead told you that he had experienced things beyond his years. He also happened to be quite handsome - not that you wanted to admit it though. You had been bent on hating him ever since your father told you who you’d be wedding.

He was the leader of the Fire Nation, of course, you would hate him! The country that has had a century-long reign of terror on the world - and now you found yourself engaged to their leader. What had you done so wrong in your life to deserve this?

As much as you wanted to plan on running away the first chance you got, you knew deep inside that it would only cause tensions to increase and more issues to arise. You wanted the best for the residents of the Earth Kingdom, so you agreed to go through with it, but did so resentfully - which you had every right to feel that way.

But as you glared up at the young male next to you and tried to keep your attention off of the scar over his left eye - you couldn’t help but wonder what if this was the man who joined the avatar in defeating the Fire Lord? He wasn’t what you expected at all. Standing in full armor with his hair holding the fire nation insignia in a top knot - he looked awkward and out of place. You almost felt bad for him - keyword is almost.

“What do you need Fire Lord?” you questioned him, turning your gaze back to the rushing waters of the ocean.

“Um,” he faltered slightly, probably not anticipating your response. “I just wanted to introduce myself-“

“I know who you are.” you brushed him off, turning around and walking towards him - grabbing his collar and pulling him to your height. “We might be getting married but if you think for a second I will ever be nice to you, you are sadly mistaken.” you hissed at him before letting him go and walking out of the door.

Zuko couldn’t recall how long he stood there watching your form leave, all he remembered was standing there like an idiot with a red face. He hadn’t expected you to like him of course but he surely wasn’t expecting that.

As he reminisced on memories long ago while sipping his Uncle’s tea, he couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his features. As stated earlier, It may have been an unpleasant memory back then but now he considered the day he met you to be the best day of his life. Though your relationship had surely faired through many complications for a while in the beginning - surprisingly, you became fond of Zuko over the years.

It was certainly a long time coming but that strange friendship you two shared eventually evolved into love against all odds. That didn’t mean you weren’t constantly giving him an ear full (as you should tbh) your first months together. But as time progressed and you learned that he may not have been the evil prince that you had heard so much about, at least not anymore.

He wasn’t that same angsty teenager he had been years ago looking for the avatar, he was now a young adult growing quite well into the position of the Fire Lord - which was no easy feat. Taking another sip of tea, he watched his Uncle and Mother come to take a seat with him.

“How is it, Nephew?” His Uncle asked with a mischievous grin and a raise of two bushy eyebrows - albeit already knowing the answer.

“It’s great as always Uncle,” Zuko responded with a small smile, his Uncle's expression making him just a bit concerned, causing his Mother to chuckle. Though she had gained a few wrinkles over the past couple of years, she was still as radiant as she had been in her youth. She was also much happier being able to live with the family she had been apart from for many years without fearing Ozai’s intervention. It came with a price though - it seemed as if her relationship with her estranged daughter who was now on the run would never be resolved. She never lost hope though.

“Zuko,” his mother began speaking, catching the young Fire Lord’s attention with a raise of his eyebrows. “When are you going to give me a grandchild?” She asked teasingly, eager to see his reaction. In turn, her son had barely kept himself from spitting out the mouthful of tea.

“Why do you ask that?” He choked out in between a series of coughs with Iroh patting his back gently.

“You haven’t?” She asked in between chuckles, noticing how her son got bewildered at the mention of having children of his own. “You know you’ll eventually have to have an heir at some point right?”

“It’s not that I haven’t thought about it... but Y/N and I are just really busy.” He thought aloud, wishing he could run a hand through his hair - but was unable to since it was pinned in a top knot.

“Zuko, you never know when you’ll get this time of peace again. What better time to raise a child?” Iroh reassured, wiggling his eyebrows. Letting out a groan, the young Fire Lord attempted to mentally prepare himself to go through this same conversation every time he visited his family.

Over the next couple of weeks, the constant badgering he received from his friends and close relatives started to frustrate him further, so who could he turn to? You of course.

Being married for several years now, you were more than used to Zuko’s rants, so you simply just reclined on the bed with an eyebrow raised as he paced back and forth.

“I don’t get it! Why is everyone so concerned about when we’re going to have a child or not?” He questioned seemingly no one as you attempted to keep your face from contorting into a smile. It wasn’t as if you didn’t understand his frustrations, it was just funny to watch, especially since you were already pregnant.

You were surprised that he hadn’t noticed honestly, with you staying in for the past few days due to feeling sick. Who could blame him though? It wasn’t as if he wasn’t attentive and loving as a husband, he was extremely busy as of recent-and also just dense at times. After noticing his silence for a few moments as he looked over the balcony, you decided that maybe this could be the perfect time to tell him.

Getting up and sneaking behind him, you snaked your arms around his waist and turned so you could see his face. He let out an audible sigh of what sounded like relief before returning your smile and your hug.

“You want a head massage?” You questioned pulling away, wiggling your fingers playfully.

“Please.”

For the past couple of years, Zuko had been letting his hair grow out so now it rested around his shoulders.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” You started tentatively, but as usual, he was too caught up in the sensation of your fingers raking across his scalp to entirely understand what you were saying, so he just nodded in response. “I’m pregnant.” You stated plainly, ceasing your scratching. Not getting a response for a few moments, you turned to face him with a worried expression.

Much to your surprise he was grinning up at you and placed a warm hand on your cheek. “Really?”

“Yes. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell y-“ you were abruptly cut off by him pulling you into another hug and placing a kiss on the crown of your head. “So you’re happy about it?”

“Couldn’t be happier.” He responded sincerely, leaning into your shoulder so you couldn’t see the redness on his cheeks.

Maybe your family and friends would finally leave the two of you alone now?

taglist: @practicallylivesonline @chewymoustachio

#Zuko imagine #Zuko x reader #Zuko x you #zuko x y/n #avatar x reader #avatar imagine #avatar x you #avatar x y/n #atla #atla x you #atla x reader #atla imagine #atla x y/n #avatar the last airbender #avatar #Zuko

[wincore]

atlas | kim dongyoung

pairing: doyoung x reader

words: 15.4k

summary: kim doyoung has a lot of titles. student body president, music club president, favourite student of every professor who’s blessed enough to have him. in other words, he’s not your type and never will be. at least he’s a good kisser.

or, you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders and you do not know how to hold things as delicate as glass.

genre: college au, fwb au, hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff 

warnings: very suggestive content, making out, language, smoking, alcohol, mentions of sex under influence, me being pretentious,,

prompt: anonymous said: slippery + doyoung + "you can rely on me, you know." from the first dialogue link! LOVE YOU ❤️

song rec(s): playlist here !

a/n: yes it’s me experimenting out of my comfort zone again. yes you are required by law to listen to keshi while reading this hahahaha anyway writing this was painful. <3 (aka today i tried writing very complex human emotions and failed again. classic.)

In the beginning, there was no beginning. Ergo, this isn’t really a thing.

You shouldn’t be thinking of summer in Introduction to Latin. You are a good (perhaps great, if your ego allows) student after all. Here you are, though, listening to the ticking of the clock and wondering if you sigh loud enough, you won’t have to construct another sentence with the word for ‘death’. You pause to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be thinking of summer out of class either. Unremarkable; that's what it was and you don’t like unremarkable things.

When two people end up alone together, there’s not much to make of. 

“You know,” he had said, locking eyes. “We should get out of here.”

“And then what?”

“Fuck.”

So here’s the thing: this isn’t and won’t be a thing.

Doyoung has never been subtle when drunk, you found out, and he’s not as gentle as he looks. You flip the page of your notebook absentmindedly. You don’t like where your thoughts are going; the clinking of ice against glass rings in your ears again. It’s been far too long (one whole month) and you’re craving a bit of fun. You may forget yourself but you’re reaching your fingertips a little too far to call him again. More excuses pop up. See, in your world of perfection, there’s a hierarchy of things; men rank rather low. 

(Fun doesn’t.)

Here’s another thing: you forget yourself quite often. You know very well that you’re the one who continued this not-thing and now you’re daydreaming of Kim Doyoung in class hours. 

And under grey bed sheets with a tired smile, Doyoung is hard to forget. 

It was a party, it always is. That time, however, was the first party of the year Doyoung and you happened to be attending at the same time. You can’t remember who hosted it—the frat probably—but it was at a bar called the ‘The Meeting Place’ which had too many people you didn’t care about. Doyoung was there, in his laid-back glory, and you were drawn in far too easily. Being single did not help your case—and the alcohol certainly didn’t. You’re not sure if it was the gentle touches against your wrist or quick words that left his mouth or the attractive all-black get-up. All you know is that it was your mouth against his by the end of the night in a small booth, hot and impatient. Once, twice, thrice and you didn’t even need parties anymore. 

It’s not like you weren’t aware of what you were doing; it’s just that you were quick to give in—like you didn’t want to resist in the first place. And now, summer smells like Doyoung’s perfume. 

The first night had given Mr. Student Body President a near-stroke. You weren’t the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men at parties either so the morning had been full of awkward explanations to each other till you’d kissed him to shut him up (much like in a disgusting romantic comedy, minus the feelings) and somehow, it worked. He didn’t refuse and if you recall, he’d eventually pulled you closer by the waist.

You huff, twirling your pen. He’d never admit it.

You didn’t kiss so sloppily after that, unless it was to make out against a wall or while fumbling with the keys to your apartment. The lack of alcohol can bring wonders. You were a little surprised that he’d agreed—he is the Doyoung you’ve known since freshman year after all; blunt, rude, cares more for his grades than he’d ever for you. How laughable. He’s almost the same as you.

Here’s one last thing: Kim Doyoung is not and cannot be your type. 

You had the same part-time job in your second semester at a local fast food joint, and to summarize, your interactions were less than friendly. You can’t possibly count the number of times he yelled at you for trivial mistakes, and the number of times you sent angry, clipped sentences his way. So, yes, neither of you have told anyone—just acting friendly got you enough eyebrow raises.  If there’s anything worse than contradicting yourself almost directly, it’s having to explain that to your friends. So, you kept it a secret and so did he, for his own reasons.

You massage your forehead. If you think any more of this during class hours, you’re going to have to classify this as a terrible, terrible problem; like you don’t have enough already. You tune in to the lecture again, hoping it drowns out the rest of your thoughts. 

You tap your pen against the desk till you’re asked to stop by the professor. There goes your last resort. It isn’t the first time, but you breathe a sigh of relief at the hands of the clock. Casual means casual—you know it better than anyone. Maybe it would be easier if you could be more open about it. But you can’t. Your own problems aside, Doyoung would kill you if his reputation went down, even a nick. Men like that are so difficult, you curse to yourself. 

You run into Ten in the hallways, brightening at his absurdly wide grin. In fact, you haven’t seen him remotely upset since freshman year, when he couldn’t join the dance club, not because he failed the audition but because he mixed up the dates and missed it entirely. (It’s okay; he got in the next year.)

“Guess what!” he yells before you’re even in conversation range.

“What?” you yell back.

“No, guess,” he says, when you’re close enough.

You roll your eyes. “You scored a date?”

Ten deadpans. “No. I don’t even want one.”

“Loser.”

“No, you.”

“How clever.”

Ten flicks your forehead with no provocation whatsoever, making you yelp in pain. After a minute of cursing on your part, he squishes your cheeks to bring you back to reality—like he wasn’t the cause. You bite your lip to keep yourself from scowling. His hair is still light brown from the bleach, and you fix his bangs out of habit; your dumb friends are all you have at the end of the day. You sigh. They all lean on you unwittingly.

“Anyway, the news? I’m not guessing anything else,” you warn, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Well,” he draws out the syllable. “I heard- know you’re into the smart type. You know, student council kinda guys? So…”

You choke, the coffee leaving your mouth just as quick as it entered.

“Who told you that?” The laugh that leaves your mouth is forced and certainly fake but it’s the best you can do.

Ten rolls her eyes, still smiling. “I was thinking if you would be interested in a certain Park Hyungmin.”

Oh. Student body vice-president. He’s most definitely your type, with a gifted body and equally strong academic prowess—not to mention perfectly maintained tan skin and the most radiant smile you’ve ever seen in your life. 

“Oh, yeah, he’s hot,” you nod in agreement. “What do you want me to do with him?”

“He likes you. Like, totally has the hots for you. And I owe him so please help me out here.”

You furrow your brows, heaving a deep sigh.

“You...want me to go on a date with him?” you ask. 

You can oblige. Park Hyungmin is the hottest dude on campus (probably). It’s a win-win situation—in fact, it’s even better. A certain bitter taste finds itself in your mouth. It must be the coffee. You swallow it. 

“Yeah.”

And the deal’s done.

It was casual commitment, like most things you do for fun. You don’t think much of it, and the thought takes its final bow when you run into Doyoung himself.

Well, sort of.

You turn heel when he appears in your line of sight, pretending to fix your hair against a damn wall. You aren’t quite ready to face him yet, considering the coffee hasn’t kicked in—it’s not healthy how much you depend on it. Dependence is different, however, from consciously drowning yourself in it. 

See, Doyoung is anything but tolerable without a few shots of vodka. Or after sex. Or when he’s mumbling in his sleep. And you can’t erase any of those scenes. This is you trying to save yourself (and Doyoung) from embarrassment and a whole lot of explanation.

His coat looks expensive and you’d rather he had it on instead of on his arm. The tucked-in sweater and pants combo accentuates the line of his waist and the colour—you wonder where he found a teal so fitting—looks serene in the crowd. He’s wearing his glasses though, looking a little less put together than usual. Still, no one seems to notice and he continues to explain something to his group of friends.

God forbid you find Doyoung attractive during daytime.

His lips are chapped but pink as ever, the hair messed up by either the wind or his friends—you should stop staring by now. You give in. You’ll text him to book a hotel room tonight.

Sometimes you wonder how he has that large a friend circle, and always, the question answers itself. Eloquence, wit and regrettably, good looks—what does he lack? Maybe if he lost the habit to nag people around fifty-six times a day, he’d be the perfect man.  

An arm slings over your shoulder, punting the soul right out of your body.

“Fuck, Johnny, don’t do that,” you hiss, placing your hand over your chest involuntarily. 

The head of the photography club apparently spends his time terrorizing everyone he remotely knows. You make a foul expression but iIt’s not like he ever minds your scowling. He says he’s had enough practice from teasing Doyoung (and you’ll admit, it’s the only time you feel sorry for him). You were certain Doyoung would have filed him for harassment sometime in sophomore year. 

“What are you even looking at?” Johnny asks, raising an eyebrow at the plain offwhite expanse of the wall in front of you.

You feel hot at the neck. “I was fixing my hair.”

“In front of a wall?”

You click your tongue. “Do you not have class?”

“Oh, don’t be so quick to send me off.” He places a hand over his chest in mock hurt, fingers stretched delicately. 

To your dismay, the rest of his friends gather around giving you happy greetings—greetings only carefree college boys are capable of delivering. To your further dismay, Kim Doyoung arches an eyebrow at you, the same way he does on nights you’re doing things less than appropriate to think of in broad daylight.

“Hey, Doyoung, don’t you have anything to say? Or were you too drunk to remember?”

You bite down on your lip a little too hard. Doyoung, on the other hand, looks like he’s just seen God, stammering out a “what?” nevertheless.

“Weren’t you supposed to buy (name) a drink for driving you home that night?”

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat.

Oh, he’s bought you a drink enough times. Summer has waned but whatever thread you tied around your wrists hasn’t. Right now, your guess is that Doyoung has been ensnared in the common ritual for college boys to walk around campus and declare their friend is single just to embarrass him (or by some miracle, score him a date).

Everything, apart from the way you look at Doyoung, feels like a charade. You shake your head with a quick laugh, smacking Johnny in the arm and pay your condolences to Doyoung—keep it light. You’re good at it, or pretending you’re good at it, at the very least.

Doyoung’s gaze on you lingers for a moment and then you breathe. You’re going to be late for class—you offer the classic excuse and you’re out of there. In a way, it’s exciting. You’ve always wanted to have a secret relationship, even if this isn’t a real one. 

Doyoung is like the summer breeze, and you’d like for him to stay that way.

The next time you grace each other’s presence is when Doyoung’s tongue is in your mouth and his hands are running up under your shirt. 

He’s quite a pretty sight—messy hair, red lips and rosy cheeks. He moans into the kiss as he has quite a few times now and there’s the lovers’ high running through either of your minds. When he presses his lips to your neck, a soft restrained sound escapes you, not quite prepared for the sting of electricity through your skin. He moves to your collarbone and shoulders and then even lower, hands gripping your waist tight. The walls do not have ears here; these hotels are cheap but they’re built for privacy and maybe you’ll let yourself believe for once that you can belong to someone.

“Why did you text me in the middle of the goddamn night?” he mutters against the base of your neck.

“You want reasons now?” you whisper, hands running through his hair.

Doyoung has pretty fingers, pressing at the right places and prettier eyes that look at you with something akin to, dare you say it, love. He kisses you like he hasn’t had enough; and it makes you feel important.

He’s even better when he’s annoyed.

You wake up at around five in the morning. Propping yourself up on one arm, you take a moment to look at your partner. It’s easy to make out the line of his nose against the pillow, and if you focus, you can see his lashes against his cheek and his dark mop of hair clinging to his forehead. However gentle the moonlight is, it is kindest on a lover. 

Funny.

Too tired to sneak out, you go back to sleep.

“All I’m saying is that you have too much coffee,” Doyoung complains, slipping on his loose black sweatshirt. “It can’t be good for your health.”

You shake your head, scrolling through your phone as you lay on your belly. You’ve seen this view enough times—his back to you and sitting at the opposite edge of the bed, his incessant complaints and opinions about something that happened recently, running his hand through his hair when he sighs. You press on the calendar app and type in a note labeled ‘x’. Keeping tabs isn’t a bad thing; especially if you like order. Spending too many nights with someone is going to land you in trouble. That said, if you could trap love in a bottle, you would.

“You taste like coffee,” Doyoung adds with reddening ears.

Sometimes, it’s easy to ignore what he says if you listen to the sound of his voice instead. You sit up, scooting closer as Doyoung shoots you an alarmed look. He’s so cute like this; something about all the painted fences he puts up around him makes you want to lean in closer.

“So,” you poke his side. “How many relationships have you been in? Proper ones.”

“Three,” he answers, to your surprise.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “That’s more than I’ve been in!”

Doyoung furrows his. “How many have you been in?”

“One.”

He seems equally surprised but doesn’t probe further. After all, the price sticker that spells ‘youth’ clings to his forehead just as it clings to yours. 

“How many people have you fucked?” you ask suddenly, enjoying the visible flush across his neck.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he notes, flicking your forehead.

“Ow!” You place your palm against your forehead. “Okay, I get it, you have nothing to brag about.”

He shakes his head, an exasperated sigh leaving him. “I just don’t think you have to know. I like privacy.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “Don’t tell me- That night- don’t tell me you were a virgin—”

Doyoung squishes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, a laugh erupting from your mouth. 

“Who’s a virgin?”

Nothing about this, you find yourself realizing, is complicated. It’s easy, gentle, natural, like a breath of fresh air—everything but complicated. Even under dim lights and within the depths of night, Doyoung is warm and uncomplicated. His chest, his hands, his lips—they are warm, as are his words. 

But Doyoung is a fucking fairytale.  

Even after these few months, all you know about him, in the definitive format, is that he plays the keys for more hours than he sleeps. What he does for fun, what his classes are, how he became student body president—you could play guessing games all night.

“Do your friends know where you spend your nights?” you ask, leaning back against the pillows.

“They know what I’m doing, not who I’m with,” he responds, running his fingers through his hair.

You purse your lips. It’s nothing hurtful but you don’t like the hush-hush in his tone.

“Why not?”

“Because this is a secret,” he responds as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Do you want them to know?”

He’s right.

“Ah, whatever,” you mutter, a stream of curses following when your elbow collides hard with the edge of the bedside table. 

“Your mouth is filthy.” He looks away to his phone. “I don’t swear as much.”

“Well, of course it is. I had your—”

Doyoung presses his palm against your lips with a tired sigh. “Please. Don’t speak. For the sake of my sanity.”

You smile under his hand and he returns it; and the November morning warms up.

“Where were you last night?”

You were expecting the question. Areum is the worst possible candidate for a roommate if you want some privacy. You don’t think she ever sleeps; sometimes, you wonder if she even showers because all she does is stare at her laptop screen and adjust her designs. Her lips are always chapped and her hair is always in a simple low ponytail but somehow still messy. You’ve never met someone so exhausted yet so full of life at the same time.

“Who were you with last night?” Eunji yells from the bathroom, before the two of them laugh.

You knew you shouldn’t have stayed the morning. You have the nosiest roommates anyone could (not) ask for. But they’re still your friends, you tell yourself begrudgingly. You would tell them about Doyoung if it weren’t for Eunji’s big mouth and Areum’s lack of common sense. And if it weren’t for the inherent comfort of privacy.

(Some part of you wants to keep him to yourself. You don’t care about student council president Doyoung or his friend group’s everything-regulator Doyoung or always-has-his-shit-together Doyoung. The one in your bed is the most loving.)

Areum adjusts her glasses, narrowing her eyes at you. “So? Any answer?”

You break out of your daydream at her voice, feeling a flush creep up your neck.

“I don’t have to explain anything,” you retort, snatching the coffee she brewed from the tabletop. “It was a Friday night and the two of you like Netflix more than me.”

“That’s mine,” Areum mumbles out a weak complaint.

“But don’t go out alone,” Eunji whines. “It can’t be safe.”

You laugh. “You know me. I don’t do anything too dangerous. Besides, you guys have that tracker app.”

They shrug, offering you a thin smile. A part of you is happy that they trust you but another part wonders what it would be like to be worried over. Maybe getting nagged isn’t so bad. 

You take a sip of Areum’s coffee and almost spit it out right back. 

“Did you add salt?” you ask, wiping at your mouth and hoping the taste disappears.

“Uh.” A reply so intelligent, you wonder if she ever pays attention to anything she's doing. 

You take a moment (a few), sigh (several times) and make your way to the shelves. Grumbling, you make her a proper cup of coffee before you leave.

Classes don’t wait for you (even if you think they should) and the world doesn’t wait for you (again, you think it should wait for people) so you’ve made it a point to understand the whole deal about rules. If everyone followed the rules, it would be quite a pretty scene; messing up is only valid if it’s done prettily. You laugh at the thought. That’s near impossible. The bus ride to the campus consists of music and thoughts of bleak tomorrows—an average commute for college kids, you think. You sure hope you aren’t alone in this.

Doyoung smiles at you in the hallway today, and despite your best efforts, it makes your day smell a little fresher.

Your day: classes, coffee break, classes, complaining with Ten, assignments, ‘me’ time. For someone who pretends to be laid back, you use your planner as though for survival. There’s no sticky notes or colourful sketches (except on occasion); just good old fashioned to-do lists and a calendar marked with time you’ve spent on productivity. Every day is a list to be completed. If people call routine a man-made cage, instinct is the biological cage. You’d rather be in control of the cage you’re in. You’d rather be in control of yourself. It’s scary otherwise.

So you know how to get the job done—it’s ingrained into you the same way you would place your hands over your ears at loud sounds, or the way you would run to your bed in the dark after switching off the lights.

It never occurs to you that the reason your world is so perfect is a sad one.

Sometime next month, it’s going to snow. Not yet though, and it’s still too cold.

The inside of the cafe helps the slightest, the heaters situated far back from where you sit. Christmas decorations are up already and the combination of red and green meshes delightfully into the form of an aching headache. The wood paneling on the walls are worn at the corners, the garlands hardly covering them, and the barista behind the counter seems as gloomy as the decorations are bright. You wouldn’t be noticing all of this if you weren’t stuck in one position.

You lean your cheek further into your palm and sigh, only this time Ten asks you to, quote, ‘shut the fuck up’.

He pulls up his sleeve and reaches for another pencil. His cryptic process continues, as it has been for the past half an hour and you feel yourself getting impatient, trying to not bounce your leg and get another bout of quibbling from your half-mad artist friend. You don’t usually run low on patience; but Ten has a special pass to test drive it.

“How much lon—”

“Shh!” He hushes you quickly. You can’t remember why you agreed to being his portrait study subject but you sure as hell regret it.

Around fifteen minutes later, you take a (permitted) breath. You have neither the energy nor the neck strength to glare at Ten but you make sure to show your displeasure by snatching the cookies from the table with a particularly sour look. He gets up and pushes you to the side of the small worn-out couch offered by the equally small booth.

“God, that chair was uncomfortable. My butt is frozen solid,” he lets you know, and you roll your eyes.

“You know, if we weren’t friends in high school, I would never be friends with you,” you state.

Ten tilts his head to the side, a mocking pout over his lips. “I would die without you, (name). Really.”

You smack his arm and he yelps, smacking your arm right back. The sound attracts some attention and giggles, and you make a gagging gesture to let them know you are in way or form in a relationship. The low-volume music changes to something with a more distinguishable beat, the sound of doors opening and closing almost every two minutes accompanying. Arriving on time is an accomplishment, especially arriving before rush hour on Fridays at the only decent cafe on campus, but both of your classes end early and there is no way you aren’t taking advantage of that. Leaving, however, is mostly done when you’re being glared at by the waiters and waitresses.

“Doyoung asked about you,” Ten says, all of a sudden. “Kim Doyoung.”

You try to not show concern, but raise an eyebrow. “What? So? He’s not my type or anything.”

You bite your tongue. That was too quick a response, too obvious. Your cheeks grow hot. Ten doesn't say anything, however, and for a moment, you think you’re in safe waters. 

“Are you guys… into each other or not?”

You cough, trying to show your surprise at something so outrageous. “Why would you think that? Does he look like someone who dates around?”

“Actually, he’s been on quite a few dates.”

“No way.”

You know that. He’s told you about it before, in vague references, but you know about them nonetheless.

“Isn’t one student council guy enough?” you mumble. “Why are we talking about Doyoung?”

He shrugs, a familiar feline smile on his face. “Just asking. He talks about you sometimes. Actually, we forced it out of him but whatever.”

You shake your head. “You’re all terrible.”

“You seem to like him though.”

“Who said that?”

Ten sighs, ignoring your question. “If you guys are dating—”

“We’re not.”

“—or fucking—”

“Ten.”

“—you should learn a thing or two about him. The guy’s not as annoying as he looks. Or stuck-up. He’s really nice but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I know that,” you snap, feeling warm at the neck all of a sudden. “I know him.”

“Oh, you do? Tell me what his hobbies are then. Or his major. Or the clubs he’s in, apart from the student council.”

“He- He likes to sing and he’s- he’s—god, what is this? An interrogation? I’m not going to meet his mom for dinner.”

Ten gives you an ‘I knew it’ look before leaning his elbow onto the table. “You’re sleeping with a guy you don’t know anything about. Serial killers would love you.”

You massage your forehead. “Look, I know he’s a good guy, okay? And he’s sweet- and- and—wait a minute. Oh my god, you tricked me.”

Ten lets out a snort. “Hey. Okay, look, the other guys might be dumb as shit but I have, you know, a working set of eyes. I can tell. It’s not that hard.”

You grumble but the cat’s out of the bag anyway. You should’ve known Ten would figure it out—he’s a nosy little shit, and he’s been that way since high school.

“Whatever. As long as Doyoung doesn’t start panicking about his tarnished reputation or whatever.”

“Oh, I think he’s desperate to let everyone know.”

“To you, Ten, everything seems obvious. It’s annoying.” You mess up his hair.

“No, I mean, I thought you were dating.”

“Well, we’re not.”

Ten shrugs. 

“And I don’t like him,” you add. “I like the- the thing that’s going on because there’s no feelings attached.”

He looks somewhat pained, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, but doesn’t respond to your explanation. “Can I ask for a favour?”

“No.”

Ten sighs. “Come on. You didn’t even hear me out.”

“You’re going to say something stupid. Or insulting.”

“It’s neither, promise.”

You run your hand through your hair, breathing shallow. “Fine. I don’t have to agree though.”

Ten purses his lips. “It’d be better if you did.”

You hum in response, biting into the cookie and trying to ignore the glare from the nearby waitress. It’s about time you left anyway.

“Get to know him, dude. Don’t break his heart.”

“What?”

“Just kidding. There’s a party tonight. Hosted by yours truly. Finally moved out of that stinky dorm room. Bring over some friends but not more than three. And lend me some money for a juicebox.”

“That’s a lot,” you mutter. “You ask for a lot of favours.”

“Oh, speaking of which, Hyungmin—”

“He already asked me out on a date. Am I supposed to say no? You never mentioned he has such an attractive voice.”

“Oh, I’m not telling you to not go on that date. You have to, actually. I’m going to be in a lot of trouble otherwise.”

“That sounds good to me.”

“Shut up. I’m not done speaking.”

You roll your eyes.

“But if you didn’t, I could draw some conclusions.”

“What am I, your chemistry experiment now?”

“Well, you and Doyoung seem to be—”

“Don’t complete that sentence.”

“I was going to say something funny.” 

Ten flashes you a blinding smile and you sigh. By now, you’re about to get kicked out of here so you stand up discreetly while he packs up his stuff. You hug your jacket close to you as soon as you leave, shivering at the evening breeze. The sky is inky, but with a faint sort of ink—deep blue and light, all at once. From the crowd, you can tell classes just got over for quite a few people, eclectic chatter filling up the street.

“Fine. I’ll bring Eunji,” you tell Ten after some contemplation. “And whoever else responds to my text first. Areum never leaves the room. You know that.”

“Thanks, (name)!” he messes up your hair. “I would give you a kiss but someone will end up punching my pretty face.”

You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re not my type anyway.”

“I’m too good for you,” he responds in a sing-song manner, waving at you before running off and disappearing into the university crowd.

There’s always a sort of buzz in the air you can’t quite describe at college parties.

Even if this is a relatively small one, you feel an oncoming headache the moment you enter Ten’s new apartment, which you’re sure had a ‘no parties’ rule in the rental contract. You spot Kun, Ten’s roommate from the dorms and he flashes you a quick smile in greeting before he’s swept up by a doting crowd. Apparently, a cute guy in animal sciences is rare and it makes him rather popular.

Eunji disappears from your side the moment she spots Johnny, and the number of eye rolls you’ve given her haven’t warned her off him yet. You suppose it takes heartbreak to change a person. Sighing, you make your way to the kitchen only to be greeted with the strange sight of Yuta trying to balance Jaehyun on his back so they can imitate some anime formation and back out immediately. Living room, it is, despite its populous space. (You don’t really want to think of bedrooms right now.)

The apartment is quite big for what Ten told you the rent was. The hallway to the two bedrooms is narrow but you suppose something has to be sacrificed for space. You furrow your eyebrows at the two bedroom doors. Ten never said he was getting a roommate. You shrug it off, sitting down on the rather stiff couch. The lack of furniture, apart from the couch and a coffee table, makes the place look even larger and people sparse. You like the beige walls; Ten’s always loved warmer colours but something makes you think he’s going to be ruining them in a few days with garish green paint before he comes crying about that to you.

“Hey.”

You look up to the familiar voice, heart rising to your throat.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Doyoung remarks before sitting down beside you and offering you a cup of god-knows-what.

“I don’t take drinks from strange men,” you say, biting down your smile and crossing your arms.

“If you didn’t take drinks from strange men, we wouldn’t be fu—”

“Doyoung!” you hiss before looking at him with careful suspicion. “Are you drunk?”

“No. A little bit. Not enough.”

You sigh. “How will you get home now?”

“I live here, idiot.”

“You’re- You’re Ten’s roommate?” you sputter.

“Yeah. New one,” he responds. “He used to live across our room in the dorms, I can’t believe I actually agreed to this.”

“I can’t believe it either. I’ve seen cats and dogs friendlier with each other than the two of you.”

Doyoung laughs. “He’s surprisingly one of the better people to room with. I’d rather eat my own blanket than room with Yuta again.”

You laugh at his irked expression, eyebrows furrowed so cutely. The line of his brow bone to nose to lips, it seems a little too perfect to belong to someone. He relaxes his shoulders a little, leaning back on the couch as he looks somewhat lost in thought. (“You think too much,” you’d told him once. “And you think too little.”) If only that were true, you smile to yourself.

“Are you sure you can hold parties here?” you as when the music suddenly rises in volume.

“Well, it said student-friendly,” Doyoung responds, looking visibly disturbed. “Not sure if I want to test the limits of that so early.”

There’s a pause, filled in with loud pop music. You don’t think Ten, your dear introvert, would have agreed to such a party but there’s a chance Johnny or Jaehyun had something to do with this. You don’t know who to suspect when it comes to their group of friends.

“I still can’t believe you’re rooming with Ten.” You look at Doyoung.

“Well, that makes, what, eleven of us, I guess?”

You laugh, feeling conscious all of sudden. Maybe you should listen to Ten’s advice.

“Doyoung,” you call, looking at the cup in your hands a little too passionately. “What’s your major?”

He looks at you with eyes widened ever so slightly, and a pause over his lips.

“Linguistics,” he answers.

“Oh. You said something about it once,” you mumble, recalling something vague about an assignment of his. “You know mine?”

“Yeah,” he answers, eyes cast on his watch.

“Well, that makes me feel a little guilty,” you mumble as softly as you can.

“You should be,” he says. “You never listen to anything I say.”

You scoff. “You just complain most of the time.”

“Really now?”

“Yes,” you snap, looking away.

You look back again when you hear the sound of Doyoung’s laugh, a distinct brightness in it. Sometimes, you wonder if you really are as awful as you’ve made yourself be.

“You’re cute,” he says. “No wonder everyone is so in love with you.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

“Everyone?” you laugh. You don’t care about everyone. It’s burdensome.

“Everyone. They hate you too, by the way.” He smiles to himself. “Heard you’re going on a date with that dimwit. Hyungmin.”

You feel a sudden discomfort in your being. Taking a sip of the drink, you try to shake it off as best as you can. 

“Yeah, I- I don’t think I’ll go,” you say, waving it off. 

Why are you lying? You left it hanging on a maybe. Part of you wants to tell Doyoung; he is your friend after all and you tell friends stuff like this. The other part tells you this is cheating; lying and pretending everything is okay—it feels like cheating. 

“Oh.” He looks lost before he focuses on you. “Why not?”

“Why do you care?” you ask, trying desperately to calm the uprising in your chest.

He stays quiet for a few seconds and then shrugs, looking away from you. It makes you feel a little guilty to dismiss the situation so quickly, another item to add to your troubles. You sigh.

“Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down.

“I’m not,” you say. “I’m wrong. I really didn’t mean it.”

He looks at you all at once, his gaze so gentle that it makes you think he wants to kiss you, or do something equally affectionate. Instead he sighs, downing whatever’s left of his drink before a wash of sudden looseness does away with the tension in his body.

“You have any more questions for me?” he asks, smiling. “What's it like to be student body president—or, or what instruments can I play? My favourite animal? Colour?”

You smile back. “What is your favourite animal?”

“I don’t have one. Don’t like them. Unless it’s a soft toy.”

“No way. You’re lying.”

“Now, I answer your questions and you call me a liar? Makes me a little hesitant to answer the next.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, next then. Why didn’t you join the frat? All your friends are in it.”

“Hurts my ego.”

You laugh. He’s still probably an honorary member. There is no way he’s apart from friends for too long with all those feelings of fraternity he has, no matter what he says. It’s the same as you. Affection leads nowhere though; just to short-lived moments of comfort.

You realize, through the course of the night, that you never asked. How he got into the student council, what his classes are, what he does for fun—you never asked. It’s almost like you didn’t want to know. 

How sad, you muse to yourself, to be this way. To be so wrapped up in your own problems that you fail to see people around you. Pity, however, isn’t something to feel at a party. You talk with Doyoung for the rest of the night till the sound of his voice makes you feel certain ghosts of butterflies, and till you have to take Eunji home before she does something she regrets. This is what it really means to have the price tag of ‘youth’ strung across you perhaps—when you feel old and immature all at once, and in between, when you feel nothing at all.

Doyoung is too old to mistake love. Or too young. 

Labels don’t define anything, especially when it comes to relationships—so even if he calls it love, whispers it to himself at midnight when he’s sitting alone on his bed while his friends are passed out drunk on the floor, it is empty. And then there’s you. The heat of your skin, the curse of your smile and that cheeky laugh you do to get on his nerves. He wants all of it and he’s not ashamed—but he’d be a liar to say he can shout it to the whole world. He’s not that kind of man, and what is his can remain his without the rest of the world prying its damn fingers in. The first night, no, the second—third? He can’t remember which night it was but something pent up in him exploded and he didn’t try to control it for once.

“Ow,” he mutters.

His throat burns from the whiskey. He hates drinking alone but you’re either asleep or with friends and he can’t think of anyone else but you. He tugs at the turtleneck collar, getting uncomfortable by the minute, and then proceeds to take off his coat.

For a moment, he considers getting back to the living room. There were more than enough people with lingering touches against his shoulder and longing gazes—they’re not you. He leans back onto his bed. Another hour and everyone will be gone; why did he even let them hold a party in the first place? Parties just remind him of you—he takes a whiff and smells summer and lemon vodka all of a sudden. A deep sigh leaves his lips.

You might not seem to find yourself especially sad, but Doyoung finds something oddly touching about you. Maybe it’s the way you say his name, he muses, like you’re desperately trying to fill the gaps. But it can’t be him in particular, of course—it’s a lover, any lover.

He hates long nights, just as he hates winter but lately, they haven’t been feeling too cold. Isn’t it ridiculous the way he’s running after you? Doyoung was never meant for this. It’s fucking pathetic and it makes him want to tear all his hair out but there he is, still and quiet in the same place. A certain agony makes its way through him. His hands are freezing and yet his insides are burning—nothing makes sense and right now, he doesn’t want it to. He presses his cold hands to the warmth of his cheeks and a laugh erupts from his mouth.

He must be going crazy to laugh like this in an empty room. The car lights from the window travel slowly from wall to ceiling, the only thing moving in the stagnant of his room.

Inevitably, he thinks of the end. It should come quick; in fact, he’s never been one to do this. He’s always been someone to get attached to people. He doesn’t know how the end will come because this shouldn’t have begun in the first place.

Doyoung’s out of breath.

“Crazy bastard,” he mumbles to himself, followed by a groan when he lifts his head up. As if on cue, the door opens and shuts with a bang. Ten walks in looking drowsy, running his hand through his hair with a disgruntled face.

“I hate to say this,” he slurs. “But you’re right. We can’t have extra furniture and parties. Gotta choose one.”

Ten lays down flat on the bed. “I vote out that ugly ass clock you bought. Why do we need it? We have phones and laptops.”

“It was a gift,” Doyoung mutters.

“Oh. Uh. Actually, someone already, uh—”

“Leave it. We’ll talk about that in the morning.” 

Doyoung massages his forehead, groaning at the pain when Ten suddenly decides he’s all up for cuddling. 

“Ew,” he says, scooting away from Ten. “Get away from me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Ten whines, trying very hard to pull Doyoung into a hug. Of course, his attempts are blocked by Doyoung’s palm against his forehead.

After a few more seconds of trying, Ten huffs and turns away, crossing his arms. “I don’t like you anyway.”

“I know,” Doyoung mutters.

Ten erupts into laughter, sounding more like a psychopath than a close friend of his.

“You do that every time you like someone?” he asks in between fits.

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “I just said—okay, yeah. Whatever.”

There’s a much needed silence and Doyoung wonders if he can just fall asleep without kicking Ten out.

“You should tell (name),” Ten says all of a sudden, Doyoung’s heart stopping at your name.

“What?” he whispers.

Ten looks at him as though he’s talking to a particularly stupid child. It makes Doyoung scowl but there’s too much alcohol in his system to know if he really means it.

“You don’t- you’re- everyone in this goddamn building knows,” Ten explains, exasperated. “Jaehyun knows, and he’s the densest kid I’ve ever met. God, if you like (name), go for it.”

Doyoung blushes so deep, he considers pressing his palms to his cheeks again. He thinks for the next few moments. Ah well, if they had to find out, he’s glad he didn’t have to declare it himself.

“Whatever, just ask (name) out. It can’t be that complicated.”

Except it is. You don’t have to spell it out for him—he knows the way you feel. The two of you only ever wanted one thing out of this. But if there’s something Doyoung isn’t good at, it’s keeping his mouth shut. He wonders how many times he let it slip, wonders if you even care enough to notice. God, it’s starting to sound pitiful for him.

“Ten. How much did you drink?” Doyoung asks, raising his head.

“Nothing. None. I’m not drunk.” Ten shrugs. “Just sleepy.”

A ‘wow’ is all Doyoung can respond with. He still isn’t quite finished figuring out what sort of horrific planet Ten stumbled from. A notification ding distracts him from kicking Ten off his bed and he has half a mind to toss it onto the bedside table but it’s still half. He softens almost immediately.

It’s a text from you: a ‘u’ followed by a smiley face and then a meme he can’t quite read through hazy eyes. He finds himself smiling anyway and sends a barrage of emojis, whatever he finds because he likes the way you get annoyed at them. Sighing, he decides that’s enough. He’s not in the right state of mind for conversation.

Doyoung shuts his phone off, attempts to push Ten off the bed one last time before closing his eyes and dozing off.

Not every day is meant to be fun—you know that in your twenties—but it’s still somewhat disappointing to have bad days. Like youth is meant to give you some sort of happiness daily. That’s what they make it sound like.

You groan, rubbing at your back. Sitting at your study desk for so long does not have good long term effects. At least, your temporary, meaningless assignments are done. You scowl at the text on your laptop screen; the more you look at it, the more you hate it and so, you shut it off. It’s not like your pissy professor is going to be impressed by anything you do. However, you like the orderly certainty of schoolwork.

Break time consists of guilt and sugary snacks. You’re done with most everything and you suppose leaving the final review of things to a later date can’t hurt. In fact, it sounds rather appeasing. A few more moments pass in making a decision.

You get dressed. The apartment feels eerie all alone, and you’re sure as hell not going to spend the rest of your evening here. You shiver, quickly striding out the front door and locking it before taking out your phone.

People misunderstand winter. Winter is only the end of things; and sometimes, the beginning. It isn’t cruel or crushing, it’s just taking its course. However, you have a tendency to blame seasons for all that happen in it. For instance, you shouldn’t be missing summer when you really miss the first night with Doyoung. 

He picks up after calling thrice. You wonder what he’s even up to, if Saturday evenings are also booked full for such a guy.

“Why do you take so long to pick up?” you complain. “Do you not get days off?”

“I’m busy,” he hisses. 

Something’s wrong.

You pause, unsure what to do. It’s not his voice but the one in the background that catches your attention. 

Inviting him somewhere. 

Rather sensually.

Your ears feel hot and you drop the call. Of course. Of fucking course. You’re the idiot thinking it was a thing. This whole thing is casual—feeling sorry wasn’t in the contract. Fucking around was.

It’s not like you’ll be heartbroken by something like this. Of course not. Of course. Doyoung and you never had a beginning so there isn’t an end, really. It’s fine. It’s fine. You take a deep breath and browse through your phone. With the onset of Christmas holidays, you have around three options left. Ten (yikes), Jaehyun (no way) or the latest addition, Hyungmin.

Well, you’re dressed. You have to go somewhere. And your statement about Hyungmin being the hottest guy on campus still stands.

You send two texts to the boy before deciding that’s apparently enough time waiting. He picks up after a few rings, voice groggy from what you assume to be a late afternoon nap.

“You up for a drink?” You cut to the point.

“Uh? Oh, uh, now? I am, of course- I just need—”

“Twenty minutes. I’ll text you the address.”

Nothing cheers you up like your favourite bar. Or friends. Or people who respond to calls.

Hongdae is as busy as ever. You knew the bar would be packed but not this packed. Still, you managed to grab a seat at the bar table. With the oncoming night, the smell is just going to get worse—so there’s nothing wrong with treating yourself to some lemon vodka (and its refreshing scent).

Hyungmin arrives exactly four minutes early, and the mussed up hair makes you think he must have been in a hurry. For what, you can’t be sure. 

You can still see the inklings of Hongdae nightlights on his hair right before he enters, and in the fallacy of that moment, you think it’s going to be Doyoung. You sigh. This isn’t the time for that.

“Sorry,” you say, gesturing to the bar table. “All the tables were booked.”

“No, no,” he responds quickly. “I actually prefer it here.”

He’s tall, not that it’s the first time you’re noticing, but even when he’s sitting, he’s at least two heads taller than you are. His shoulders are accentuated by the mocha coat, no doubt part of the latest trend this winter. As a fashion student, he hits the mark and more. 

For a moment, you feel bad for knowing his major. Ten let it slip about him and yet still, you feel guilty for remembering it. You’re not supposed to go into unnecessary detail about people that don’t matter. Does he matter? 

“Surprised you could make it,” you joke half-heartedly. “Aren’t you lot always busy with something?”

He laughs. “The student council? Oh, we’re busy alright.”

Busy. Right.

“What about you? Aren’t you part of like three different clubs?”

“So what kind of busy?” you ask, ignoring his question. You’re part of two, now that you left the music club last semester. It’s not like small talk matters though.

“Uh,” he hesitates. “You know- attend meetings and events, coordinate committee work, supervise stuff, etcetera etcetera. So busy, yeah.”

“Busy on Saturdays too?” you ask, before thanking the bartender for the drinks.

“Yeah, I guess. Doyoung has it worse than me honestly. Even now, he has to take care of stuff because of me. Hah…”

You gulp down your drink making Hyungmin raise an eyebrow in concern. “Stuff? Because of you?”

“Yeah.” Hyungmin scratches the back of his head. “He’s with the girls.”

“Girls?” you ask, playing with the glass. You’re starting to feel annoyed, red lining your vision.

“Yeah.” He makes no notion of clarifying his statement.  

“Must be quite the president,” you say, resting your cheek against your palm.

“Oh, he’s a nightmare.” Hyungmin laughs. “He has to control everything.”

You try to mask your scoff. You know what he can be like when you’re working beside him. 

“Oh, and the guy has no sense of humour,” Hyungmin laughs, the sound easy on the ears.

You blink.

“I think he’s funny,” you say quickly. You swear you have no idea why you sound so defensive.

He hums in response and you consider biting your tongue, telling him you’re only here for one thing and forgetting the uncomfortable churning of feelings inside your chest.

“Forget I- I’m a little confused today.” 

Is that an acceptable explanation? You can’t think straight enough to decide. The silence on Hyungmin’s part, however, worries you. The crowd around you fills in for the next few moments as your companion seems to debate something with himself.

“Look, I know you and Doyoung are… I don’t know, something.”

You huff in irked amusement. “God, does everyone seem to know?”

“Not until late actually.” Hyungmin takes a gulp. “He’s been acting weird. Doyoung.” 

You look away, breathing shallow. You don’t like it, the way things seem to be getting out of hand. All this time, the world seemed to be in the palm of your hand and now, it’s spilling everywhere; the sand in the hourglass is already up to your knees and you don’t know what happens when it fills.

“Do you actually like him?” he asks, leaning back just a little. You know where this is going. “Are you guys dating?”

“No,” you respond, checking your watch.

“Oh.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation in him but you’ve seen that look before. You know that look.

“Then we can- uh- we can—”

“Fuck?” you ask.

He gulps. “I mean, you can say no any time—”

You pull him by the collar and kiss him, hard enough to melt away your hovering thoughts. He kisses like you expect him to, not how you want him to. You know this sort, and somehow, that makes you feel comfortable. Knowing what you’re getting into is easing but it doesn’t lessen the weight of it.

It’s sickening. The way you’re pretending it’s Doyoung.

Hyungmin pulls apart, panting heavily. “Oh, okay.”

“Tell me you drove here.” 

He holds up his car keys in response.

You’re not the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men, but it’s better than falling in love with them.

So you follow a lover to a hotel room and try to feel something. Some time, when he’s kissing you against the hotel room walls, he pulls apart and asks, “You’re thinking of someone else, aren’t you?”

You know the answer; it just won’t leave your lips.

“It’s okay,” he says with a weak smile, “Let’s just have fun.”

And every time his mouth was on yours, every time you saw stars, you felt the ghost of Doyoung and his haunting touches. It was strange and unfair and unlike you—or at least, unlike the you that you built over the past few years. You feel as though you’ve misplaced something—like something was supposed to be there when you reached out but instead, it was empty space.

The night ends as it should and you leave right before dawn with an apology text you couldn’t put half your heart into.

Most winter nights, you wake up with pain so profound, it’s seeping into your bones.

It never made sense. You never tried to make sense of it. So you let the aches push you down by the shoulders, lodge itself into your neck and back; and you tell yourself, it must be what you deserve. It’s cold and you’re walking barefoot on frozen ground.

You gasp. The weight of who you are and who you have to be—it has its knee on the back of your neck, shoving you into the damp earth. There’s no particular reason to it; it makes it seem as though it’s insignificant. Unimportant. Irrelevant. But that’s the problem—the weight of the world on your shoulders makes no sense. Whose world are you even carrying? Whose approval are you trying to win? You scramble to get up, messing up your bedsheets in the process, and pull your blanket around you. Your own warmth surrounds you and it makes no difference. You frown.

You remember your phone call with your mom, and your lips tremble. You shouldn’t have told her about how crappy your finals went but it slipped. You tried to explain that you did work for them, that you gave it your best but sometimes things don’t work out. She didn’t have to say it out loud for you to hear her thoughts. 

You’re disappointing. 

You wipe at your eyes, feeling annoyed at the emotion. If you could let the ground swallow you whole, you would. In a heartbeat. You don’t even know what you’re doing most of the days despite that pretty planner of yours.

You get out of bed, pull on your cardigan beside the bed and grab your lighter and pack. The tiny balcony makes for a great smoking spot and while you would scold any of your friends for committing to this, you do it yourself. Hypocrite.

For all you try to shove into yourself—hobbies, student clubs, actual clubbing, friends—the more you feel less than enough, as if everything just vanishes into thin air inside you. As if you aren’t enough and never will be. You play by the rules and you lose, you break the rules and you lose. 

Maybe it’s because you let yourself be filled by the intricacies of other people that they like you. And thus, you cannot stop for fear of loneliness.

Just as you’re feeling crushed again, you picture Doyoung against your back, placing his nose in the crook of your neck—something he has never done—and you wonder why it helps. 

Sucking in air too fast, you cough. You shouldn’t have let it go on for so long.

It was fun—harmless fun. You shouldn’t even be thinking of taking a step in some other direction. You’re friends, barely, but you like where you are. If Doyoung was that important, you wouldn’t be going about this all backwards. You sigh, though it comes out jagged. The room is quiet and that’s the way it should be at four a.m, of course, but you crave music all of a sudden. Doyoung and you are just a temporary fix; and you let that thought relax you.

When you think of his chin on your shoulder, however, it feels feather light.

“Why are we doing this?” you ask. 

The atmosphere is warm and toasty, just like you expect it to be in a bakery with light pink doors and a collection of plastic potted plants on display. The decorations aren’t an eyesore here and somehow, it makes you feel better. It’s a little far but you decide it’s worth it.

Doyoung shrugs, sipping his hot chocolate. “It’s Christmas, and we’re both here.”

Your eyes follow the hanging lights over the counter, wrapped in pine tree stickers and eventually to the neat display of a ‘Season’s Greetings’ menu, the contents of which are currently at your table. A Christmas song by some singer who’s been popular lately plays, tunes light and dancing. You hate the end of the year solely because of the extra pressure January brings. Nothing you can’t handle, of course. Nothing you can’t handle.

You sigh. It’s been a little difficult lately.

“Doyoung, really, why are we doing this?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Are you- uh- are you not enjoying this? I could—”

“No! No, it’s not that. I feel better, actually.” You bite your tongue almost immediately after. It’s not like he’s supposed to know the sort of hell week you’re having. A poorly received term paper, finals that weren’t up to your expectations, crippling loneliness without friends and, oh, the self-doubt—you are at the lowest you can be in college. The only sweetener right now is in the hot chocolate and the way Doyoung’s looking at you. 

You feel something close to guilt.

“Good.” He smiles. “You seemed… You seemed a little down.”

The sliver of warmth between your ribs makes you think this is unreal. It feels uneasy to be so affected by someone but you let it slide, turning back to your hot chocolate.

“Why didn’t you go home this time?” you ask, sipping your drink.

“Oh, I didn't really want to face my parents,” he says before leaning. “Didn’t do too well this semester. And my brother’s going to be there with all his achievements.”

You chuckle in disbelief. “You don’t like your brother?”

“I love him to bits. Just can’t stand my mom’s nagging when he’s around.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” You cross your arms, smiling triumphantly. You feel like children squabbling but it’s so lighthearted, you want to laugh.

Doyoung raises a pointed finger, about to retort but nothing comes out. He puts his hand down.

“I guess you’re right.”

You shake your head. “I’m sure she’s proud of you too.”

“I know that,” he says, laughing. “Of course she is. I don’t keep myself busy for nothing.”

You gulp, a sudden sourness rising at the base of your tongue. 

“Busy, huh? Didn’t know spending saturday evenings with girls also counted as busy,” you mutter against the cup, half-hoping he doesn’t hear you.

“What?” There’s a perplexed look across his face.

You wave your hand in dismissal. “Oh don’t mind me.”

“Are you talking about me giving a tour to the fresher girls?” Doyoung leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Hyungmin does that usually but Mr Man was sore from soccer practice and Friday fucking.” 

You blink. “Fresher… girls?”

“What, did you think I was at a brothel?” Doyoung laughs in amusement.

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “No! No, of course not.”

You wave your hands about for a few more seconds, trying to come up with an explanation. This makes things rather embarrassing.

“Sorry,” you say finally. “I jumped to conclusions.”

Doyoung laughs, rather deep and heartily, and you wonder if your apology really did sound as stupid to him as it did to you. 

���You do that a lot,” he notes.

“Thanks,” you quip, cutting the pastry with your fork a little too forcefully. His laugh follows. (You hate it so much. It sounds like pure adoration.)

The next few moments consist of scrolling through your phones (because Doyoung says his ‘mouth hurts from talking to you’) and you would’ve been in a better state of mind if everyone wasn’t posting pre-Christmas photos with their families. 

“You know they’re opening that park. What’s it called- Winter Wonderland or something. You said you wanted to visit.”

You look up at Doyoung amused.

“Let’s be honest. You want to be in bed, Doyoung,” you say. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I care,” he answers, looking at you with his doe eyes. “About you. You sulk when you’re upset.”

“I don’t sulk,” you reply but your smile is obvious when you exit the cafe. 

It’s like a date. The more you think of it that way, the more it makes you smile.

The evening is perfect—orange and pink and loving and happy. Doyoung trails behind you as you tread over the sidewalk with cheeky remarks about his speed.

“I’m in the track club, you know?” he huffs, finally tired of your jabs.

“As what, the start point?”

A fake, sarcastic laugh leaves him. “I wouldn’t get to see you if I walked ahead.”

You feel warmth creep up your face. You mumble, “that’s cheesy.” It’s too weak though, and it goes unheard. 

For the first time, you notice his eyes are a little like yours in what they reflect. You love them. 

So this is where the crowd went. The amusement park, or whatever you call it, is buzzing with a faint sort of excitement, mostly in the children that didn’t get to go on a vacation elsewhere. It’s quite the wonderland though so you can’t see them complaining.

“Do you think they’ll kick us out if we make out on the Ferris wheel?” you ask, smiling at Doyoung.

“I’m not making out with you on the Ferris wheel,” he replies, making a face.

You do end up making out on the Ferris wheel, and you get butterflies from it. It’s like a teenage dream but Doyoung looks even better. You pass on the cotton candy because frankly, you’ve had enough of sweet things. You sit at the frozen wooden seat, hoping it warms up while Doyoung brings the two of you some fries.

Your phone buzzes with a notification. Your eyes light up at the mail from your professor. You had turned in the term paper three days ago, weeks ahead of schedule and were particularly proud of the way it turned out. 

You look at the email and zero in on the word ‘redo’.

Your shoulders sag immediately. You spent four weeks on that—and it’s not good enough? You search frantically for how it could have gone wrong and come up with none. That’s not supposed to happen. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong. The week’s exhaustion swallows you up again.

When Doyoung returns, he looks at you concerned before quickly setting the fries on the table.

“(name). Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” Your voice sounds so weak and squeaky, you feel embarrassed. It’s embarrassing that after all these years, you still don’t know how to handle failure. 

Because it’s not supposed to happen. You tell yourself that over and over and it makes things worse.

You feel dirty, underneath all that dust and crumbled rock dangling in your hair. Whatever rests on your shoulders is cracking and collapsing, and you’re pushing in the wrong direction to make sure it all stays up. 

He reaches out his hand but you avoid it.

“No,” you mutter, weakly shaking your head.

You rub at your nose and eyes, hoping you can hide behind your forearms. Doyoung shouldn’t be seeing you like this, he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. You turn away from him, your palm gently pushing against the soft material of his shirt. 

Doyoung doesn’t move. Instead, he gently tugs on your wrist so you have no choice but to face him with your red-rimmed eyes. You’re not sure if it’s embarrassment or pity, but the concern in his eyes makes you cry harder. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he whispers. “You don’t have to find a place to cry.”

For the first time in adulthood, you learn what it’s like to lean your forehead against someone’s chest this way. Doyoung wraps his arms around you and the sound of his breathing soothes your near-erratic heart. 

“I worked really hard on it, you know?” you mumble against his chest. “My term paper.”

“I know,” he whispers.

Doyoung strokes your head delicately, fingers running through your hair with airy touches. Eventually, you let go of a final sigh and look up to his lips.

He seems surprised at the kiss but it’s all you can think of now. It’s gentler than usual and Doyoung moves cautiously though he seems to like it all the same. His arms feel comfortable around you. When he pulls apart, he looks at you yet still with careful concern.

“We can- we should stop if you want,” he says, and he means it. 

You shake your head. Night is creeping in overhead, deep and quiet and slow.

“I like you, Doyoung,” you say finally. “I really, really like you.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen, as though a rabbit wary of the traps it might set foot on but he eases into your touch almost immediately.

“I like… I like you too.” His lips waver but he looks away and takes a deep breath. “I like you so much.”

You smile and think that maybe everything is set right now, with his chin against your shoulder and your arms around him. 

Doyoung discards the jacket once you’re in your apartment, kissing you fuller now. Every other thought leaves you; you beg him to make you forget the rest of the world. The walls are comforting now that he’s here, and it’s warmer, hotter.

“Can we- Can we go a little slower?” you mumble, his arms still gentle when they wrap around your waist. He parts his lips from your neck to look at you momentarily before nodding.

You suddenly understand why he always makes you feel so good. There’s a certain fondness to his touch and warmth to his kisses. There’s no one quite like him, really.

“I love digging graves, especially if it’s my own,” you mutter against the pillow.

Doyoung laughs. “What did you do this time?”

“This time? Excuse me? Do you think I’m some sort of trouble child?”

“Hm. Let’s see. Yes.”

You pause. Why do you hesitate to tell him you slept with Hyungmin? It’s not like you were cheating—you weren’t dating Doyoung. Besides, that night with Hyungmin didn’t mean anything. A horrid feeling snakes around your throat, heavy and piercing. You resort to changing the topic.

“I’m… I took another course beyond my understanding.”

“That’s it?” he asks.

You nod.

No, no, no; it’s all backwards now and you don’t know how to reverse it.

Doyoung takes your hand in his, delicately and yet firm. His chest is against your back, bare and warm. When he presses his lips against your knuckles, the warmth that flushes through you makes you want to believe in something else entirely. You feel weak. 

A part of you argues that you feel honest—in a moment of clarity you don’t think you deserve. Neither vodka nor whiskey can make you this clear in the head; you struggle to breathe straight. How awful it is to feel warmth and not believe in it at the same time.  

“You can rely on me, you know?” he whispers.

The knot in your chest makes you want to cry.

You feel lonely and the opposite of it all at once. Doyoung is too much for you—too kind, too pretty and too true. He makes you realize too many things at once.

There are a few things in the world that can stifle loneliness. Like the notes Doyoung plays on the piano, like the songs he hums in the morning till you place open-mouthed kisses against his neck.

You realize, all of a sudden, that Doyoung really is your dearest friend.

And yet, you don’t think you deserve it. You’ve never loved, you believe, but you have. You don’t remember it well enough. The lovers’ touches you kept searching for led to this. Hypocrite. You wanted a lover’s touch and you rejected the love that came with it. What a complicated bundle of emotions. You weren’t always this way.

You loved your first cat when you were six, all the way till it died a warm death in your bed. You loved your mother even when she yelled at you for skipping your chores. You loved your middle school friends when you talked about comics and movies you saw for the first time. 

It’s hard to love the same way now.

You suppose sympathy needs a little backstory. Nothing is unconditional. 

It had all started when your heart had broken into two clean pieces. You put a bandaid on it and called it a day. No one taught you to ask for help.

Your friends know someone broke your heart; you tell them everything. Friends, friends—you wanted them so bad and yet, you keep them as far from you as you can. You pretend to be paper-thin and so shallow, sometimes you wonder if that’s all there is to you. But for all they know, they know next to nothing. It wasn’t just the aftermath of reckless puppy love. 

The first time your heart broke, it was watching your mother cry in the living room for a reason you didn’t understand. You wondered who committed the crime, who should be charged—and you found no one. A loveless marriage is cruel, yes, but you cannot point fingers. It isn’t just cruel; it’s infuriating.

The second time, the two pieces of your heart broke into a few more. It was a boy with an inviting smile and flags whose colour you couldn’t quite discern. They must have been red, but everything else was too—hearts, cheeks, lips, and the threads around your wrists. And eventually, he guided you to the conclusion that you are undeserving, unworthy, unloved. 

You were strong, however. It was easy to collapse on the bed and feel the weight of the world settling in, but you stood up again on shaking knees and you told yourself to have fun; you can have fun without feelings. You know better than to attach meaning to fun—you might hate insignificant things but it’s only fun if it’s pointless. You’re not letting go of this place you’ve worked so hard to arrive at, with all the shattered pieces in your hands.

It’s better to offer nothing at all than offer broken pieces.

“Can we stay like this?” Doyoung’s arms tighten around your waist, his breath shallow against your shoulder. “Just for a little bit.”

His voice is beautiful as always, but for a moment, it strikes you as sad.

Everything’s twisting up into knots and you are frantically running your fingers over them to straighten it all out. You know what it’s like to let things rot; and you are tired of it. Why can’t everything disappear for one moment? Why can’t you just let it be the two of you?

You sigh in response, nodding. 

“I might not know what’s happening in there,” he starts, drawing circles on your chest with his finger, touch comfortably light. “But…”

I’m here and I get it.

Is that what he wants to say? You don’t think you’ll get to know. You’re not exactly voicing yourself either. 

Stay the night. You want to say it but your lips are frozen.

Instead, you rub your thumb over the back of his hand, fitting into each other as perfect as a lie. You would tell him, you try to convince yourself, if you could say it with enough conviction. There’s no point to saying things that are half-meant, that are true but only just enough. You’re a coward.

And now, this has gotten complicated.

An end.

Tapping his pen against the desk, Doyoung grows increasingly annoyed. The council's next  meeting agenda isn’t going to finish writing itself but he can’t bring himself to either. Besides, Ten’s pacing outside his room is starting to get on his nerves.

“Ten!” he yells. “Can you quit it? You’re making too much noise.”

His disapproval is met with silence. For a moment, he spaces out and reflexively thinks of you, only to feel a confusing sort of emotion. It’s normal, he tells himself, and that it’ll sort itself out.

Doyoung feels like a glass box more often than not. If he breaks, who picks up the pieces? Who gets cuts all over their fingers?

‘Whoever breaks him’ should be the answer. But that’s wishful thinking. It’s not that simple. 

He’s so see-through that it’s painful. He used to tell Taeyong he’s wrong but he’s never been able to prove it. He is easy. It’s embarrassing.

But then again, part of him likes it when it comes to you. He likes it when you kiss him after a particularly heated disagreement, he likes when you get on his nerves just so he’d fuck you and most of all, he loves the push and pull. Fun is just that. He doesn’t know what he’d do if that heart of his he placed so gingerly into your palms falls and shatters.

The line between hate and love is thin; and he’s enjoying walking it too much.

He has nothing to offer but himself. He laughs at the thought and shakes his head. It’s somewhat dirty, and not just in the sexual sense.

“Ten!” he yells again. “Stop pacing!”

Getting up from his seat, he strides over to his door, swings it open and finds Ten scratching his head and glancing at his phone in repeated action. 

“Ten?”

He’s so in a trance that he hasn’t noticed Doyoung. He is the lovable sort of idiot if he ever chooses to be so. Most of the time though, he’s just a smartass.

“Oh, oh no, I’m a bad friend,” Ten mutters to himself, his pacing growing more restless. He scratches the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed and too inside his head to notice Doyoung. He wants to ask but something tells him he shouldn’t. 

Turns out, his apprehension isn’t strong enough these days. 

“Whose date did you crash?” Doyoung asks, more than annoyed already.

When Ten looks at him, Doyoung feels rather shriveled and freezes on the spot. Call it instinct but Doyoung respects fear and pain. Ten has a mixture of the two, amplified when he looks at Doyoung.

“Doyoung. Hey,” he says, trying to tone down the distress in his voice.

Doyoung still hasn’t recovered from the initial surprise of Ten looking that way.

“Did you fuck up? Did someone fuck up? Why do you look like that?”

Ten sits down on the small couch. “Long story… I guess. Too many details, you- you know? Just—”

“What the fuck happened?”

Ten still can’t look him in the eye. “The group chat’s a little…”

“Ten,” Doyoung snaps. “Cut the crap.”

“No, that’s- that’s what I’m- You’re going to be upset.”

Doyoung straightens, furrowing his brows. “I think I can fucking handle it.”

“You know that date I set up for (name) and Hyungmin?”

“You set that up?”

“(name) slept with Hyungmin.” 

Doyoung quietens. The silence seems to make Ten uncomfortable as he shifts in his seat, getting up when Doyoung speaks.

“So?”

Ten blinks. “You’re not upset?”

“Just what kind of loser do you think I am?” Doyoung mutters.

Glass shatters just that easily. Maybe he wanted you to shatter him. Maybe he was already cracking at the edges.

“Doyoung, you don’t have to—”

“Stop,” he exclaims a little louder than he intended. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m a grown man, I can handle shit like this.”

It still hurts though. You lied to him and he let you in. You lied to him. Doyoung sighs, returning to his room with a realization he should have had long ago. His night ends with more deleted drafts than he’s supposed to have and eventually, with increased discomfort, he delegates the job to Park Hyungmin himself with the excuse of sickness.

Doyoung does feel sick. He felt this way once, in highschool, but it had turned to red, hot anger ready to lash at anyone and everyone, spilling from his lips as easy as it was to breathe. And Doyoung can never feel that way towards you. He was different back then too, of course, but you—you’re unlike anyone he’s ever met. He loves the comfort of you, and something like that is hard to come by. 

He feels like laughing again but instead he finds tears on his cheeks. Silly boy, he can hear his mother tell him. You don’t give your heart to heartbreakers. 

So Doyoung falls asleep to the sound of upbeat music in his earphones, music he hates even just to pass the night. Morning will come and he will have to become stronger. Comfort is fleeting, after all.

With everything said and done, you know very well that if you were to tell someone you love them—genuinely, truly, from the heart—it would be Doyoung. It’s not a sudden realization, like the sky falling apart or a tidal wave crashing against the shore and sweeping away the city. It is like the gentle lapping of water, though, or the way the clouds change shape—natural and anything but alarming. You want to stare at it forever, and you want to believe that’s how it will be forever. 

“You told everyone we had sex?” Your voice is boiled to a shout. 

Hyungmin looks torn, lips moving but no explanation making its way out. “I- I told my friends, not everyone.”

“And you forgot that your friends talk? Everybody talks, Hyungmin, what were you thinking?”

He sighs before taking a step towards you. “Why are you so angry about it? As far as I remember, you had no trouble talking about whose pants you got into.”

You scoff. “With friends, not the whole campus.”

“That’s exactly what I did!” 

You cross your arms, feeling so upset you might cry and unsure as to why. You’re usually good at dealing with stuff like this, keeping things in the right place.

“It’s because of Doyoung, isn’t it?” 

You snap your head to Hyungmin. There’s a serene sort of look to him despite his unkempt appearance, and a look of understanding.

“I’m sorry. Really. But if you were so into him, you shouldn’t have called me that evening. It might not matter to me but…”

You broke his heart. All that devotion he had towards you led to this. 

“You’re right.” You choke on your words, leaning against the wall. “Fuck… Fucking…”

You turn around, making your way out of the hallway and hope the tears on your cheeks dry faster if you run.

You can’t remember the last time you ran. Your world didn’t need running from, it was right in the palm of your hands. Now that you look back, the world was always on your shoulders and heavy as it can be. Maybe you liked it—the weight. You could’ve shrugged it off any time; you didn’t need all those caging schedules or careful, elegant steps.

No. Atlas couldn’t shrug because his punishment was his existence. To have weight is to have meaning; and that is how you intended to live out your life.

Doyoung makes you see it differently. To love so fully even if it seems cautious—you, who has never loved at all, couldn’t comprehend it. And because he makes you see it differently, the box is now open and all hell is loose. 

For once, you don’t want to live in the world you crafted. You want more love, more hurt and you want to open the doors. You don’t mind hell if it’s for him.

You ring the bell to Doyoung and Ten’s apartment and pray the news hasn’t reached him yet. He said he was busy this weekend; maybe he was detached enough from his phone for once. You just want to be the person to tell him. It’s not a perfect apology otherwise.

Doyoung opens the door with pursed lips and cold eyes. There’s a sense of ease over his shoulders and arms but he won’t look at you and panic rises to your throat.

“We’re not fucking tonight, (name),” he says.

“That’s not- That’s not why I’m here.” Your voice is so meek, you wonder what happened.

Doyoung steps back, crossing his arms. He’s still looking at his feet and you feel the urge to reach for his face.

“I wanted to tell you- I… I just—”

“That you’re fucking other people?”

“God, Doyoung, stop with the fucking. I don’t care about that right now.”

“Really?” His voice is so sharp, it digs into your skin. “You were just in it for that. That’s the fun part in your stupid life, isn’t it?”

You feel a sharp pain in your nose and forehead. “You’re- Now that’s- Doyoung. I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say.”

“After—” His voice chokes up. “After everything is done? Stop with the excuses and face it for fuck’s sake. You aren’t made to fall in love. That’s why you dance around it all the time.”

Although he says that, he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds defeated.

“It’s not like you aren’t cautious,” you retort, throat feeling heavy. “You said it yourself- you don’t want to care too much.”

“I was wrong,” he says, voice hoarse. “I care about everything more than I’d like to admit. I care about you more than I’d like to admit.”

“The Hyungmin thing didn’t mean anything, okay? You were busy and—”

“So why did you lie?” He strains to not raise his voice. “Of course I knew our little thing didn’t mean shit to you. Why did you pretend it did? Last week, you said- you said—”

“Doyoung, last week- last week I- I wasn’t pretending, I swear.”

“You could’ve just saved yourself the trouble and the dignity.” A short, humorless laugh leaves him.

You feel your lips tremble, the explanation not quite made its way out yet. He looks so innocent like this, rabbit-like eyes watery and full of pain, pure the way they have always been. This is your mistake, isn’t it?

“Doyoung, please,” you manage to say. “That was wrong. I couldn’t clear up my head. Please don’t—”

“No. I was an idiot. Or you see me as one.” He frowns deeper, lips trembling. “I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have. We shouldn’t have been at the same fucking party and I shouldn’t have drank so much. You’re- I’m not that kind of person.”

You bite down your lip. “What kind?”

Doyoung laughs, the sound raspy and empty. “The kind to not fall in love with you.”

It damn near breaks your heart to look at him. You have to say something, it shouldn’t end like this. You’re desperate and all you think is that you don’t want it to end at all.

“Please, I thought of you as a friend, that’s why—”

“And this is what you call being a friend?” he cuts you off.

You feel the sting in your eyes and nose, making you turn sharply to the side. You wish he���d just make you cry. It makes you feel the rancid guilt all the more.

“Make Hyungmin your friend for all I care. Let’s stop this.”

You stare at your feet, unable to respond. 

“You can have every boy in the world, (name). Don’t come to me.”

“Can you just stop talking about everyone else?” you yell, desperate. “Do I talk about your exes? Seungjae or- or what’s-her-name—” 

“That’s different!” He looks distraught, breathing heavily and with a painful red flush over his nose and cheeks. He runs his hand through his hair, tousling it further. “You lied to me, (name). You lied.”

Your cheeks are wet and the look that flashes over Doyoung makes you think he wants to step right out to you. He stays frozen in place, however, looking away to the side.

“Did you notice?” he asks softly. “Even once? How much I cared?”

You can’t answer, letting the tears drip down your face. It’s getting colder and colder. 

Doyoung bites down his lip before parting them. “All we did was have sex anyway. So please just- just leave.”

You take a long few moments but nod, hugging your coat closer and stepping out of his apartment. You think you hear Ten’s footsteps but it’s followed by the bang of a door—this is how it ends then.

The line between hate and love is thin; and you are deserving of neither.

You perfect your next semester’s academics, and the next. It still feels empty. You go out to drink with friends and return to a messy bed you sleep in alone. You smile as always and you laugh as always. No one asks you how you are as always. You never needed anyone to ask you how you are.

Ten tries but you push him away. You don’t need to drag in other people into a mess you made. He feels sorry for the whole thing but you tell him it was you that spilled the paint, Ten just handed a dash of it to you.

You were right. You don’t deserve Doyoung. At least, you made it so that you don’t deserve him. 

‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all’—it still hurts.

Every day is part of a list again. You doodled in some of the pages, when you thought you were starting to fall in love. There’s only a skeleton of it left now. Soon, you’ll let it crumble to dust too. 

You tear apart the planner sometime after graduation and cry and curse at yourself for doing that. No one’s good at parting with things they care about. You’re no exception.

It’s December again. 

This place is a little strange to visit right after graduating, especially with the memories flashing you by. Johnny said he booked one of the private booths (“A senior’s treat!”) but you feel your steps growing hesitant when you reach the neon signs by the stairs. It spells ‘The Meeting Place’ and smells of cigarettes just like it did the first time.

You stop midway up the stairs. For a moment, you think of Doyoung sitting there and wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. If you had the chance now, would you take it?

Of course, you wouldn’t. There’s too much to be set right and you can’t do it.

There’s supposed to be the six of you. Johnny mentioned Ten and you know Eunji’s invited too. You saw Jaehyun on the way here, still a student. You sigh. It must be him, the one they failed to mention to you. Kim Doyoung. There’s no one quite like him.

You spot him first. Looking a little forlorn as he gazes absentmindedly to the side, he faces away from you and you get the inevitable urge to run away. It’s a funny feeling. 

Your stomach is churning. You don’t want him to see you. Ten babbles on about something to Johnny, smiling like he found candy while clearing his drawers. Eunji looks tired, leaning against Johnny’s shoulder and you wonder if she already drank more than enough shots.

“(name).”

You jump at Jaehyun’s voice from behind you. 

“Hey,” you respond, giving him a wide smile.

He hesitates. “Are you okay? Not that you don’t look okay- you look really good actually. I mean, are you and… you know okay?”

“I don’t think so, Jaehyun,” you say and make your way to the booth.

It’s a little cramped for the six of you and Doyoung gets up before you can even greet him. It’s not like you deserve it anyway but it tugs at the wound.

“I’m going to go take a drag,” he mutters.

“You don’t smoke,” you say, looking up.

He stares at you momentarily and you look away. You think Ten and Johnny glance at you with pity but you don’t really care. 

 “Can I come with you?” you ask, barely a whisper.

“Sure,” he says, to your surprise.

The smoking area is so small, you’re surprised it’s even there. A glass structure overlooking the neighbourhood, there’s barely any light within. The only thing nice is how warm it’s in there. 

Doyoung lights his cigarette and then offers to light yours. It’s quiet, the music from inside numbed to the cold doors. You really can’t take it. You stub the barely consumed cigarette and throw it into the bin.

You’d rather just stay quietly in his presence.

“You’re not smoking,” he notes.

“It’s a bad habit.” You look out through the glass.

Doyoung chuckles. “You were a collection of bad habits.”

“And good ones too,” you quip. “I was a perfect student. I was perfect in most everything actually.”

Doyoung’s smile widens. “You were. You certainly were.”

A few more moments pass in silence, your eyes traveling over the outside scenery which seems to be growing duller by the second. City lights have never felt fainter.

“It was an accident, right?” You say suddenly. “The whole thing? Us?”

Doyoung hums. “Yeah. I fell in love by accident.”

You smile weakly. “Right. I never got to apologize.”

“I loved you on purpose.”

You look up at him. There’s not a lot of people who say what they mean. He looks the same as he used to under your grey blankets, with a warm blush over his cheeks and kind, wide eyes. 

“You’re so damn pretty,” he murmurs, “even now.”

You scan his face for signs of lying.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” you ask finally. 

Doyoung blinks before easing into laughter. “You- You’re- You’re the same as ever.”

You let yourself crack a smile.

“Doyoung I- I really am sorry,” you say quietly. “And I did- do care for you.”

Doyoung stubs out his cigarette and discards it before looking you in the eye. You notice he’s wearing his favourite black turtleneck in the proximity, the grey plaid coat covering most of it. You really liked that look on him.

“I’m sorry,” you say once again. “I want you to know that. I didn’t want to hurt you and I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

You mean it. You’re never going to hold glass again. He doesn’t deserve it.

“That’s a problem,” he responds, breath mingling with yours. “I want you… I want you to hurt me. If you really do love me, I’ll take it.”

“Doyoung,” you whisper, turning away despite your whole body screaming at you to give in. “I meant it. I can’t hurt you.”

Doyoung cups your cheek with one hand, glancing at your lips for a moment.

“You’re warm,” he says.

He’s warmer.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

You want to kiss him too.

“We went about this all wrong, didn’t we?” he asks.

“We did,” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. “I did.”

Doyoung pulls back. “Then let’s start again. I’m Kim Doyoung, I majored in linguistics. I was student council president and I made a mistake.”

You smile. “We don’t have to do that.”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “After all the trouble I went through to make a good introduction?”

The two of you laugh, and it gets warmer. 

“I’m (name),” you say. “I was a top student and I made a bigger mistake, Kim Doyoung.”

“Oh? I wonder what it was.”

“Kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got all the time for you.”

You smile and start. He responds with gentle kisses. You’re piecing your world back together again; but this time it’s feather-light and fits right in the palm of your hand. 

#kim doie perfect man bye #doyoung x reader #nct x reader #nct doyoung scenarios #nct scenarios #nct imagines #doyoung imagines #nct fanfic #doyoung fanfic #nct angst #doyoung angst #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 angst #nct college au #moonwrites #okaaay idk what this is either #if you get annoyed midway thru the fic you are perfectly valid <3 #i will literally never write smth like this ever again 🤡🤡🤡 #if you notice inconsistency in character no u dont #(i had to fix up some earlier inconsistencies but it gave more inconsistencies maybe i should give up writing for good)

[wrenhyperfixates]

Milkshakes

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Overwhelmed when Loki saves you, you respond to his kindness with fear. Determined to apologize, you seek Loki out to thank him with a couple of milkshakes and some fries. Warnings: a tad angsty but much fluff A/N: This is actually one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written. Hope you all enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart​ @marvelouslovely​

Disclaimer: Picture not mine

Of course it had to be during your lunch break that a supervillain attacked the city. Of course today you decided to go out to eat instead of packing something. And, of course you had to be walking by the building right as it crumbled. You started praying to any god that there may be to save you from being crushed. Though, you hadn’t actually expected one to save you.

In the moments before you would have been flattened, Loki put an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. Raising his free hand, a glimmering green force field appeared around you. The falling matter bounced off of it and landed around you, the shield offering strong protection. Of course you were thankful to be rescued, but did have to be Loki? You knew he was supposedly reformed, but so many news outlets still ran stories about how he was dangerous. A ticking time bomb. You’d never quite formed an opinion on him, and it was causing great conflict in you now. On the one hand, he looked very intimidating from this close, what with his impressive stature and horned helmet and all. But on the other, he was saving you from the actual super villain destroying the city. Perhaps if there wasn’t so much going on, you could think more clearly. Alas, your thoughts were a messy, confused jumble, leaving you fearful of the super-powered god in front of you.

“Are you alright?” he asked in his deep, smooth accent as the shield shimmered away into nothing. The god brought his arm to shield your eyes from the small pieces of debris still falling, the other one still around your waist in a protective manner. “Are you injured at all?

“I, um, uh, I- I,” you stammered, backing up. “Mhm. All good. Uhhh, thanks.”

You were certain you must be the most awkward person in history, but instead of making fun of you, Loki just looked sad. Even with the hurt behind his eyes, his arms shot out to catch you when you stumbled over the wreckage. He guided you away from the obstacles to a place where you could walk unhindered. He moved back from you as soon as he’d finished escorting you.

“You are welcome,” he finally responded. “I am sorry for frightening you. You should get somewhere safe.”

Without waiting for a reply, he left to rejoin the battle. You started retreating from the scene, steering as clear of any large structures as you could, cursing yourself the whole time. Loki had saved you, and you’d been afraid of him. What kind of nonsense was that? And you were certain he got that kind of reaction all the time, based on the way he’d looked at you and realized your bumbling actions were a result of fear. Fear of him after he’d so carefully and gently saved you.

You felt stupid and petty as you joined a throng of people being guided away from the scene. After nearly two years of working to protect the city, Loki should have gotten more praise and love than he did. You realized it now, only moments too late. Someone should tell him he was appreciated, a hero. And if no one else was going to do it, you resolved to do it yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The meeting was dreadfully boring, but someone had to go. Seeing as all the other Avengers were busy, that someone was Loki. Besides, Stark had told him it would be good for his image to head up the restoration of the city this time round. The committee and resources were all a part of Stark Industries, of course, so Loki felt there should be some employee to take care of it instead of him. But whatever, he’d been roped into it now, and he figured that there was some merit to what Tony has said about his reputation.

Luckily, with a week having passed since the battle, great headway had been made with the repairs, and the meeting was much shorter than expected. Itching to get outside, Loki headed to the main doors.

“You don’t understand,” Loki heard someone say to the receptionist as he approached the front desk. “He saved me the other day. I have to thank him. Please?”

Loki just rolled his eyes as he pushed through the turnstile. He couldn’t even begin to count how many fans had tried this tactic to meet their favorite Avengers. Granted, no one had ever tried to see him, but he was coming to terms with it. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder which of his colleagues you were trying to get through to see. Perhaps Steve, or maybe even Thor. Loki was so lost in thought it barely even registered when the voice switched from pleading with the receptionist to calling after him.  

He turned and stopped, recognizing the person jogging after him as you, who he remembered from the battle. “May I help you?” he asked in the most pleasant tone he could manage.

“Yeah. Uh, hi. I don’t know if you remember, but you saved me the other day,” you explained sheepishly. “You know, during the attack.”

“Yes, I recall.”

“Oh! Good. I just wanted to say thank you for that. For saving me, I mean. And the city.”

“I see,” the god replied, suspiciously raising an eyebrow. “Well then, you are welcome. Really, I was just doing my job, though.”

“Well, I still appreciate it.” There was a lapse in the conversation, as neither of you were really sure what to say next. “Can we go somewhere? Like for coffee or something. Can I buy you a coffee?”

Oddly enough, that made Loki distrust the situation even more. Ok, maybe you were actually a super nice person who had a guilty conscience for making him feel bad, and maybe that prompted you to come thank him properly. But that you wanted to buy him something, presumably to show your newfound appreciation? Absolutely preposterous. The only people who ever did something remotely as kind as that were his fellow Avengers, and not even all of them or particularly often. Any of the other people who openly supported him didn’t show appreciation, per se. It was more that they felt he’d done enough to redeem himself at this point, which wasn’t exactly the most thrilling phrasing either. But here you were, awkwardly shuffling your feet and asking to buy him coffee. Loki supposed he shouldn’t pass such an opportunity up. And yet, he probably was going to.

“No thank you,” he finally replied, shaking himself from the shocked, catatonic state he’d fallen into. “I do not much like coffee.”

As he walked away, he thought that would be the end of it. That perhaps you’d only been talking to him in the hopes he’d invite you to see the other Avengers, too. That maybe you’d go back to trying to wheedle your way inside at the front desk. Much to his surprise, you came hurrying after him.

“Wait,” you called. “Ok, so scratch the coffee. How about ice cream or tea or a milkshake or something? Anything really, you name it.”

Now that you were outside, he observed you again while he thought, as if hoping the sunlight would reveal your true intentions. He couldn’t find anything malicious in your expression, just some sort of anxiety. Loki must have taken too long in coming to a decision, because you started rambling.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to pressure you into it or anything, but I wanted to do something nice to say thank you and-” you cut off and bit your lip. “Is this stupid? It sounds stupid. It’s probably stupid. I’ll go now. Again, I’m really sorry to have bothered you.”

“One moment,” he said before you could make your retreat. “You said anything I want, correct?” You eagerly nodded as Loki got an idea. “Alright then. I would like a five course meal at the nicest restaurant in London, please and thank you.”

“I, um. I know I said anything but, uh...” You noticed his serious expression had turned into a sly grin. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. My apologies, but I simply could not resist,” he chuckled.

You began to laugh, too. Not in a way that made him think it was out of courtesy or pity, but an honest to goodness laugh. Briefly, he thought it one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard, before quickly shaking the idea from his mind. It was ridiculous; he hardly even knew you. But you seemed pretty adamant on showing your gratitude. Plus, you’d apologized to him, which was more than he could say for most of the people in his life.

“You know, I would usually say tea, but a milkshake actually sounds quite lovely right now,” he told you once you’d calmed down. “That is, if the offer is still open.”

“Of course it is!” you happily told him, the smile on your face growing. Not to mention you seemed much more at ease. “I actually know a great diner that’s just a short walk from here, if that works for you.”

“By all means, lead the way.”

It took approximately ten minutes to get to the restaurant. After properly introducing yourselves, you kept up a light dialogue. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly; just hesitant, as if both of you were afraid of saying the wrong things and shattering the blissful moment. Loki still couldn’t bring himself to fully trust you. Such a feeling just wasn’t in his nature, especially not when it came to someone he just met and had a considerably rocky start with. Even so, he found himself enjoying your company.

Arriving at the diner, Loki held the door open for you as you walked in. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait for a seat, the classic red stools at the bar free at this time of the afternoon. Loki swiveled the seat back and forth ever so slightly, and found himself chuckling when he caught you doing the same thing. You offered him a shy smile as a waitress handed the both of you a menu.

The God of Mischief had only ever had the pleasure of drinking a milkshake once before, a vanilla one when the team had convinced him to try it on one of their outings. He’d thoroughly enjoyed it and planned on playing it safe by ordering the same thing now. When you asked what he was getting, though, you were having none of that. After nearly five minutes of rousing debate, you’d finally talked him up to chocolate. Part of him was having so much fun with the discussion and how animated you became about the topic that he almost didn’t want to concede. But the waitress came back to take your orders, and he didn’t want to make her leave and come back again.

“Oh, and some French fries too please,” you added after ordering your favorite milkshake.

Loki shot you a perplexed look. “French fries?” he asked after the waitress moved away.

“Yeah. Please tell me you’ve heard of them before.”

“I have. I have even eaten them a few times before, believe it or not,” he answered as you turned to face him, leaning on the counter. “But are you certain they go with a milkshake?”

Your jaw dropped open. “Of course they do. Listen, Loki, you haven’t lived until you’ve dipped French fries in a milkshake. You’ll love it, I promise.”

You continued to help him expand his knowledge of Midgardian cuisine as you waited for your order to come. Once it arrived, you dipped a fry in your shake, just as you had said, trying to convince him just how delicious it truly was. The trickster skeptically picked one up and mimicked your actions, plunging it into the frothy liquid. The second it hit his tongue, his face lit up in pure delight.

“See, I told you,” you laughed.

“Indeed you did,” he said back, the corners of his eyes crinkling from how wide his smile was.

An hour and another order of fries later, the two of you finished your snack. Loki was in a better mood than he’d been all month. Honestly, he was a little sad when the bill came.

“Are you certain you do not want me to pay?” he checked as you fished out a twenty from your wallet to cover the low-cost meal. “Or we could split it, at least.”

“Loki, it’s fine,” you giggled. “This is me thanking you, remember? And, honestly, it’s me apologizing, too. I was just startled the other day and there was a lot going on. I hadn’t ever really thought about what I’d do if I met an Avenger, least of all if it happened while they were saving my life. I was overwhelmed; I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about yourself or anything.” Without really thinking about it, your hand moved to rest on top of his. It was a surprise to Loki, but a welcome one. “Because—and I can say this with absolute certainty—you’re amazing, Loki. You do so much for the city. I hope you know how appreciated you are, at least by me.”

His other large hand came to cover yours. “Thank you, darling.” He didn’t mean to say the pet name, but it just slipped out. “I cannot express how much that means to me.”

Somewhere in his heart, he wanted to tell you everything, make you privy to all his inner turmoil. But that was buried underneath years of pain and rejection, too heavy to move for someone he didn’t know all too well, no matter how connected he felt to you in this moment. So he let the urge pass over him, hoping his thanks would be sufficient enough in expressing how he felt.

“You’re welcome, Loki,” you told him, squeezing his hand. Then you stood up. “So, I guess I’ll be letting you get on with your day then. This was really nice, though. Thanks for agreeing to it.”

“You’re welcome and thank you,” he replied. “It really was.”

After waving goodbye to each other, you exited and Loki stayed where he was, picking at the last few nubs of fries left in the basket. He didn’t know exactly why he didn’t leave, too. Just that something was missing.

“Ah, young love,” the elderly waitress who had been serving you all day said to Loki as she came to collect the empty dishes. “Magical, isn’t it?”

“Love?” Loki choked out. “I am afraid you are quite mistaken. It was not even a date. I hardly even know them. I will probably never even see them again.”

“And you’re just gonna let them walk out?” she tsked. “It’s a right shame, sonny. Let me tell you, you don’t just let something like that walk out on ya.”

He looked at the door for a second in melancholic contemplation before bolting out after you. He shouted his thanks to the waitress as he pushed open the glass door, exiting out into the harsh sunlight. As his eyes adjusted, they scanned for your form before it walked out of his life forever. Spotting you, he jogged in your direction and called your name. Funny, he thought, how just earlier that day the roles had been reversed.

“Loki?” you asked, stopped on the sidewalk as he caught up to you. “Are you ok? Did something happen?”

“Actually, the problem is what did not happen.” He kicked a rock with his shoe, as suddenly the ground became very interesting to him. His insides were a nervous mess. Clearing his throat, he gathered his courage to continue. “See, I do not have any way of contacting you again. And it had been my sincere hope that you would want to do this again, let me take you out somewhere.”

“That sounds amazing,” you agreed, jotting down your number on an old receipt you’d found in your wallet. Smirking, you parroted back his words from earlier. “How about you take me for a five course meal in London?”

“Oh, so you have turned my own jokes against me. How very clever of you,” he laughed. “What if we just went to see a movie, instead?”

“Perfect,” you nodded. “Just text me a time and place, and I’ll see you then.”

“I look forward to it. As soon as I buy the tickets, I shall let you know.”

“Sounds awesome! It’s a date.”

As you parted ways, for real this time, it registered in Loki’s mind what you’d said. He hadn’t particularly been thinking about his phrasing or in what way he was asking you to hang out. But apparently you’d taken it as an invitation for a date. As Loki arrived back at the Tower and flopped onto his bed, already dreaming of your laugh, he found he was quite happy that you had.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #mcu loki #loki fluff #fluff #mcu fluff #marvel fluff #reader insert #gender netural reader #marvel #mcu #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #loki fanfic #mcu reader insert #loki friggason #loki friggason x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki oneshot #marvel oneshot #loki x y/n

[sevendeadlymorons]

Good noon! (Or morning/night) Hope you're doing well! I'd like to ask if you could do the one that was similar with "Brothers don't like MC?" But with the Dateables? 🙏👀 If not though! Then that's perfectly fine! Thank you reading my fair human person<3 pls take care!

Ok this was apparently really popular so here’s another with the lovely Dateables~

Writing Diavolo and Simeon was so hard, and I couldn’t even figure out how to write Luke so uhh I gave up heh sorry...

Brothers + Dateables Just Can’t Seem to Like MC

WARNING: Angst // Possible Emotional Abuse

—————————————

Lucifer

You could never understand the way he looks at you, or rather, how he ignores you after looking at you

His eyes are filled with hatred and you couldn’t understand why, you did nothing wrong yet he looked at you like you were a nuisance and a pain to be around

The way he said your name was cold and harsh and it reminded you of the way you were treated back in the human world, with so little respect, as if you were smaller and more insignificant than him

But little did you know, he hated you for everything you did. Your humour, your manners, the way you followed him around, expecting him to babysit you when he’s already pissed off with his brothers to begin with

He hates the way you loiter around him, waiting for a moment to talk to him only to be rejected and painfully ignored. He always enjoys watching your smile turn into a frown and your eyes slowly begin to water as you without hesitation turn to flee away from him

It tears you up inside, leaves your heart aching and you find yourself breaking down, tears flooding down your face as his cruel words repeat in your head

You’ve always wished that someone in any of these worlds would ever care about a human like you, but perhaps that wish may never come true

Mammon

You knew being around him annoyed him, why wouldn’t it? He was assigned to look after you; stripped of his freedom and privacy to be your new babysitter

You saw the way he looked at you in disgust, tears forming in your eyes as he throws insult after insult at you, not stopping when tears were flooding down your face after being called useless for the hundredth time

You wished he’d treat you nicer but you knew he only saw you as a weak human who’ll eventually be eaten by some lower demon which would rid him of you and his babysitting duties

Why must you always make life difficult for him, why should he deal with your fuck-ups? He wishes you disappeared, honestly

He can’t find a moment of peace with you around, constantly being called to save you from demons or to help you after getting lost, it’s such a hassle

It’s so hard to be there by his side all the time, constantly taking all the abuse he throws at you and being called sensitive when you break down in front of him

Your only wish is to make friends here. You thought maybe they’d care about you here, but perhaps life isn’t always that easy

Leviathan

He would never hold back when it came to you, worse than Mammon when it came to insulting you as you bite your lip to stop it from quivering

You were so insignificant to him and he let you know that, just a stupid normie who enjoyed getting in his way and pissing him off with your humour and your constantly loud personality

He ignores you, pushing you away and rejecting all conversations, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was insulting you until you felt it deep in your heart, your stomach sinking as you realise the Devildom will be no different from the human world

You knew your sadness irritated him as his brow furrowed and his lips crease into a grimace at how pathetic you looked stood in front of a powerful demon like him

It took all of him to not get physical with you as he’s not stupid enough to make Lucifer punish him for it, but in his head, he wants you gone

You never knew what you did wrong with Levi; you shared multiple interests with him yet he would continue to scoff and tease you and brush you off, locking himself back in his room

You sit alone at night in floods of tears, no one to talk to as you realise just how alone you are here and just how desperate you were for someone, anyone to like you

Satan

Nothing you said got his attention, well, not in a positive way anyway

You were a nuisance, he said it himself as he grabs your face, threatening you for the god knows how many times this week

He hates the way you were always around him, following him like some kind of dog and asking him meaningless questions that he had no interest in answering. You would him up, made him so angry sometimes that he wish you would just disappear. He didn’t care where to, as long as you weren’t in his sight

He loves to see you cry after telling you exactly how he feels about you and how every single one of his brothers and friends feel about you. You were nothing to him and you never will be

You’re brainless and clumsy and he doubts you’ll survive down here, not with how naive you were

You wanted so badly to befriend him, or at least for him to see you as a worthy person. You had enough shit thrown at you in the human world and all you wanted was a friend, someone to talk to and laugh with

You’ll forever have to remember that he does not care about you and you’ll forever be stuck alone

Asmodeus

Straight away, Asmo took a disliking to you, grimacing and inching away from you whenever you were near him, like a disease

Every time you tried talking to him, he wouldn’t even let you finish a sentence as he walks away, laughing at your pathetic excuse of a conversation along the way

He made your life Hell as he threw backhanded insults at you, making you feel worse than you already did and causing you to feel disgusting and unwanted

The avatar of Lust didn’t even want you, so you always wondered who ever would

In truth, he hated you for no particular reason. He just saw you as weaker than him and took advantage of that, making you feel worse and worse every day until you eventually decided to leave him alone, as he truly couldn’t stand your face nor your plain personality

You always end up alone in your room after a day of torment, tears flooding down your face as you stare at an empty screen, feeling so alone and unwanted

You wish he had a reason to hate you, you’d change yourself so he’d actually like you then. You just wanted someone to talk to and someone to love you, but perhaps you were just meant to be alone

Beelzebub

He hated how you were so curious, and so small compared to him. Just another human that he could easily devour in seconds

His eyes were always so dull when he looked at you. So emotionless and unbothered by your presence. And it hurt because they immediately lit up when his brothers walked in. Why couldn’t he look at you like that...?

He’d steal your food, snarling at you when you protest and terrifying you if you even went close to his food in the fridge. You knew he had it in for you and you just wish he didn’t

He saw you as lower than him, enjoying the tears that formed in your eyes when he would insult you and call you names, pushing you to limits that would soon break your heart

Some days he would ignore you and those normally hurt the most as you were forced to walk behind him and Belphie whilst they were laughing and having fun, leaving you behind like you weren’t even there

Nothing you could say could ever make him like you and you slowly began to accept that as you distanced yourself, allowing him to take your food and be his punching bag in a hope that maybe he’ll start to like you...

He was always so nice to everybody but you, just like everybody in the human world and you were so sick of it, so sick of the pain and the tears. You just wanted a friend in this dark, scary place

Belphegor

Seeing you just made him hate humans harder as he realised just how pathetic and annoying they all were

He never smiled nor made proper eye contact when you were around, all you got was a snarl, the cold shoulder and an occasional threat when he’s in a particularly bad mood

He reminds you how easily he could kill you; wrap his hands round your neck and suffocate you again like before. He likes to see the terrified look on your face as you back away from him

You were so scared of him, but you just wanted to befriend him because you felt alone and you wanted someone to reassure you that you’d be safe by their side, but he never let you feel that way, not even for a second

You couldn’t go near him whilst he slept without almost being injured and you also couldn’t be near him whilst he was awake because he’d insult you and make you feel sick to your stomach, feeling tears well up quickly

You break down, cradling your knees to your chest as you sob alone in a dark unfamiliar room with no one to turn to

Sometimes you wonder if you’d be better off actually dying by his hands as it’s all the same, wherever you go, everybody around you torments you and makes you feel awful

Diavolo

He loves everyone around him but when it came to you, he wishes he’d never even thought of the exchange program to begin with

You were obnoxious and so different to what he expected any normal human to be like

He kept his composure and mannerisms as royalty but he made it his job to ignore you and avoid you as often as he could

He knew it looked unprofessional on his side but he didn’t care as he continued to dodge you and skip past your questions in group meetings, giving you the cold shoulder when he saw you at RAD or in the castle when you visited

When he had to talk to you, the first thing you noticed was his dull, unentertained eyes and his lack of a cheery smile that he normally showed around Lucifer and his brothers. It made you feel so upset and like you were being treated differently

You thought maybe he would like you, but as the days passed and he kept on avoiding you and scowling at you when you occasionally bump into him, you knew it wouldn’t happen

He was the one who forced you to come here and you couldn’t even leave because who was there to go home to...

Barbatos

The Butler was the first person you saw, and he was also the first person to scowl at you in the Devildom

He normally had a serious look on his face, but when he sees you, it’s like his whole personality changes and he’s suddenly rude and harsh

You did nothing to him, not said one word, but it’s like he held something against you and it broke you. He didn’t even give you a chance and you could do nothing about it

You tried to befriend him because you wanted to so badly. Walking with him when he had free time and asking him questions to start conversation but nothing seemed to work, he just kept ignoring you

He wouldn’t insult you though, he wouldn’t even speak and that made it hurt even more as he stared you down with those dull eyes of his, forever judging you for absolutely nothing

You thought maybe assisting him around the castle would make him like you: cleaning up, helping cook. Just basic things that could make his life easier. But nothing worked, and he just left you to stand alone, heartbroken

You felt overwhelmingly lonely with no one to tell you how to survive this place or how everything worked. You realised you had a place nowhere in this world and that stung you hard as you felt tears finally drip down your cheeks

Simeon

You thought maybe an angel would be your friend, but as you watched him take one look at you and leave, your hope crumbled and your heart sank to your stomach

He walked past you every day, saying nothing as you waved at him to say hello, moving away from you so you didn’t touch him

He knew when he saw a human not worthy of his time. But he wasn’t going to insult you, he’ll spare you that heartache at least. He didn’t have any reason to dislike you, he just didn’t want to involve himself with someone like you. Someone so visibly lonely

Some days he’ll give you a pitied smile and a wave and watch your face light up. He honestly felt sorry for you, so lost in this new world, but he didn’t have the time to babysit a human like you

You’d follow him around, desperate to get his attention but you’d never actually get it. You’d get an excuse to not be there. All the time

You can’t help but cry, breaking down at the thought of being stuck here alone. Even an angel doesn’t like you, so nobody ever will

It’s always been this way though. People would avoid you and make excuses to not hang around you, everybody was the same; you felt foolish to believe anybody would ever see something in you

Solomon

When he heard another human would be here, he never expected someone like you

His first interaction with you was so clearly half arsed as he introduced himself, giving you that little bit of hope that maybe finally you’d found a possible friend only for him to never speak to you again after that

It broke your heart how nobody gave you a chance and just saw you as a weak human who needs demons to fend for them in this terrifying world

He may’ve pitied you though, seeing such a lost human like yourself made him remember how he used to be when he first entered the Devildom. But unlike you, he wasn’t useless

You tried to talk to him but you always got ignored or given a back handed insulted that would give you memories to when you were little in the human world

You thought being a human he’d understand how you may feel and you two may get along, but his eyes were always unbothered and he never smiled at you like he did around the brothers or the angels

Never in your life have you felt more ignored by your own kind and you lie alone in bed, thinking about all the shit he says to you over and over again and how little your importance is in all 3 worlds

Part 1 is here

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me dateables #obey me leviathan #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me angst