#taking a small break from doing my sick ass paintings (she's lying)

[old-desert]

Sifloops of varying quality

#isat #in stars and time #isat siffrin #siffrin isat #isat loop #loop isat #sifloop #isat spoilers #my art #desert art #art tag #taking a small break from doing my sick ass paintings (she's lying) #(I already have a sketch for another one) #siffrin right after loop disappeared in THEIR ARMS: “trauma? what are you talking about? we exchanged silver coins we're SO bonding”

[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

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.18

Annulment

03/06/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 6,291

Warnings: angst, pregnancy, broken marriages, depression, abandonment, little bits of fluff, supportive Loki

A/N: After I finished the last chapter, I went right to work on this one because the mood was good and I’ve been wanting to get these chapters out since the very beginning. These are the moments that drive me to write fics. The point of contention when everything gets messy. I hope you enjoy it, thank you so much for your comments and reblogs. Since I posted this one so quickly after the one before I will be replying to the comments on this one instead of the one before. I hope you can forgive me! <3 Thanks for reblogging if you do, it seriously helps SO much. xoxo

If you were ever in question as to whether you had a fight or flight instinct when faced with stressful situations, you now know that your instinct is to freeze.

You’re immobilized by the terror that’s tearing through you. Nothing feels real at this moment when your whole world has suddenly come crashing down.

Only seconds have passed but you quickly push your meltdown as deep within you as you can.

One hand placed on your belly in an absentminded caress of the baby growing inside, you reach for the door to go in and tell Thor you’re pregnant. It doesn’t matter that Jane is pregnant too.

You’re his wife. This little one inside you is the heir to the New Asgardian throne. And yet, your mind starts to add up the time that Jane might have become pregnant and her baby would come first.

Her child would be heir, not yours. Legitimate or not. These days, that stands for nothing.

So, despite knowing that you’ll have to deal with Jane for the rest of your life as she is the mother of your husband’s first child, it’s really not all that bad.

He loves you.

Thor loves you.

While you process this sudden revelation, the conversation on the other side of the door continues not waiting for you to come to get a grip.

“Are you certain?”

“Do you doubt her?” Thor demands, sounding frustrated and stressed.

“Yes,” Loki says passionately, “I would doubt anyone that I have not seen in several months.

“What reason would she have to lie?” Thor begs, genuinely looking for an excuse that will make this untrue. “She has never wanted the responsibility of the throne. She has always spoken of having children as a distant possibility. Not an assurance. The last thing Jane would want is a baby.”

“When did you even have the opportunity to bed her? Did you secretly make her your mistress?”

“No!” Thor gasps, as if the idea of cheating on you is ridiculous. “No, I-it was the day I went to end things with her when Y/N accepted my proposal.”

“So, you slept with Jane and then came back home and bedded your new fiance on the same day?”

“I’m not proud of that fact,” Thor admits.

“Regardless, even if you did sleep with her, you need to have her examined, Thor. You cannot take her on her word, not with so much on the line.”

“Fine,” Thor agrees, “But I’m certain that she isn’t lying. She’s been tired and sluggish since she arrived, her appetite strange, and this past week she’s been sick at every meeting, unable to hold down any of her lunch.”

A deep sigh from Loki tells you he’s resigned to Thor’s judgement. Jane is pregnant.

“What will you do?” Loki asks.

The quiet tone of their voices more dire than the passionate denial Thor’s voice had been just a moment ago.

You should go in now. You’ll tell him that you don’t care that Jane is pregnant. You’ll support him and assure him that if he wants them to move into the palace or maybe one of the houses on the palace grounds, you won’t mind! In fact, it will be better so that your babies can grow together as true siblings.

“Y/N is not pregnant yet,” Thor says slowly, his voice calculating.

He’s thinking hard.

“What is your point, brother?” Loki demands, sounding defensive.

“If-” Thor breathes in deep, but when he speaks, the words tumble out sure and decided. “If I am to do right by Jane’s and my child, if I am to legitimize my heir, I’ll-”

He hesitates, your heart thrumming so fast and hard that you can hear it’s beat in your ears as your brain throbs.

“I’ll get an annulment. The basis of which will be that Y/N has been unable to provide me with an heir. I’ll get sworn statements from her doctors that our-our bodies are not compatible and since Jane is already pregnant-”

You take a step as if to run but freeze because you know you can’t do this. No. You can’t face this. Not here. Not this close to him and her and all of this stupid royal bullshit that you never asked for but got anyway.

As you fracture from the inside, you paint a calm smile on your face and while you pull it off, you can’t disguise the exhaustion that pokes through. You take several feet back from the door, giving yourself a good length of hallway to walk.

You straighten up, stand as tall as you can, and move towards the parted door, “Thor?”

There’s a rush of movement from inside as you reach the war room and you try to keep your hand from trembling as you reach down and pull the door open.

Inside, Loki stands ramrod straight, hands behind his back and his face carefully devoid of any kind of expression other than his normal neutral.

Thor turns away from his desk, forcing a smile for you until he sees your face and his own falls quickly.

You know he doesn’t think you overheard him because you’d given yourself plenty of distance so that he and Loki could stop talking before you were close enough to hear anything.

But he knows something is wrong and he moves towards you, right hand extended to take hold of your arm.

Trying not to make it obvious, you meander towards one of the tall wooden chairs by the war table and sit down before Thor can touch you.

“What is it, cherub? Are you ill?” Thor wonders, moving towards you.

Feigning interest in the small models of the outposts that the Warriors Three occupy across the planet, you get up and move away from him again as you lean down to look at the one in the United States.

“I’m-to be honest, I am feeling a little under the weather,” you nod, sighing as you give him a quick pained smile.

You clear your throat, hoping that it sounds like you’ve got a tickle.

“I’ll send for the doctor,” Thor moves towards the cord by the door but you stand up straight quickly and shake your head.

“No, Thor, don’t. I think maybe I just need some rest?” you nod, smiling at him again but it still just looks painful. “I came to ask you if it would be okay for me to go stay at my house for a little while? Maybe a week or so? Just so that I can get some proper sleep and-and maybe find out if it’s really me getting sick or I’m just stressed out about this park project?”

“I thought the park was almost done?” Loki checks.

“And it is,” you nod at him. “But we’ve had so much trouble with the import of several of the plants that I’d wanted to have in the wildflower corner of the park and the fountains are still giving us trouble so, I-I just need a few days to get away from it.”

You turn back to Thor who isn’t looking at you anymore but has his hand pressed to his mouth as he loses himself in thought.

As you watch him contemplate and weigh his options, wondering if he should seize this very convenient opportunity you’ve intentionally given him to make up his mind on what to do about Jane and her baby, you very nearly break.

Your lip quivers and in your desire to hide it, you move back towards the door and feign a quick peek out as if looking for someone.

“Thor?” you prod, getting a hold of yourself and turn to fix him with your expectant gaze. “Is that okay? Can I take a few days to just rest up?”

He snaps out of his thoughts and his face softens. You see the Thor who’d just had you perched on his lap, arm around your waist.

“Of course, cherub, if you need some time then you should take it.”

The sadness that fills you is urged on by the knowledge that before Jane’s pregnancy was revealed, Thor would have insisted he come with you.

There is no way that he would have let you go off on your own.

As he moves towards you, this time you make sure not to budge as he places his hands gently on your arms.

He cups the left side of your face, stroking your cheek with his large thumb before he makes to lean in towards you.

Instead of pulling away or making it look too obvious, you press your face in against his chest and he strokes your back as you successfully juke his kiss.

“No, don’t kiss me. I-I threw up and I haven’t brushed my teeth,” you pretend to fuss.

“You know I don’t care, cherub,” Thor nudges you back a little.

“Well, I do.”

You shake your head at him, delving deep into your soul to scrounge up whatever pieces of it you can find and give him a small pout instead.

“Alright,” Thor gives in, but he still leans down and presses his lips to your cheek and then your forehead before you’re pulling away from him to edge towards the door.

“I should go if I want to catch the next flight out,” you tell him.

“Y/N,” he calls and you stop by the door to look back at him, wishing he’d just let you go so that you can fall apart alone and away from all the eyes of the palace.

Thor clenches his hand into a tight fist, gently tapping it against the war table as you wait.

“I love you.”

You blink, give him a quick forced smile, and sigh because despite the heartache you’re drowning in, “I love you too, Thor. So much.”

As you walk away, you know that nothing will ever be the same. In a week’s time, you might not even be Queen anymore. Wouldn’t that be something?

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re given a bodyguard. Well, more like a friend who can kick serious ass. Hilde was happy to volunteer.

“Something’s up,” she observes as she escorts you into the airport gate.

Normally you’d have set up for a private plane, or Thor would have.

But he has other things on his mind.

“What do you mean?” you ask her, clearing your throat again for the fifth time since you left the palace in order to uphold the pretense of feeling sick.

“Your face is all wrong, you’re not saying something.”

“I have nothing to hide, Hilde. I’m just tired. I feel weak and beaten. I feel like I can’t catch my breath. Like I’ll crack if I’m not careful enough to hold myself together.”

All of this is true. You do feel like you’re about to crumble to pieces. Nothing you just said is a lie. You’re not hiding anything, just waiting. In a week’s time, you’ll know where you stand. And then you can tell Hilde everything.

“How long have you felt this way?” Hilde wonders, real concern painting her tone.

“Not long,” you tell her. “It just started today, actually. About two hours ago?”

“There’s something more,” she refuses to believe that you’re only sick. “It’s like you’re running from something.”

“What would I be running from, Hilde? My luxurious and comfortable life? My loving husband? My sweet and loyal people? My life is perfect. I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.

“I have a family. The only thing I’ve ever wanted. Why would I run from that? Unless of course, I’m being kicked out?”

Hilde fixes you with a look of complete confusion.

As you hand over your ticket to the man at the gate, you force a smile on your friend.

“If I were being kicked out, I’d run before they could get the chance to give me the boot. Then at least it was my choice and not someone forcing me to go away.”

“Why would anyone kick you out? It’s not possible, Your Majesty. You are Queen of New Asgard. Or did you forget?”

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to ever forget my time as Queen. I think I’ll remember it until the day I die.”

Hilde takes your arm, turning you to face her with subtle force, “Oi, what aren’t you telling me?”

You swallow hard, pushing your sorrow down until you can ignore it a little better.

“I’m-I’m not hiding anything, seriously. I’m just tired, Hilde. Being Queen is harder than I ever thought it could be and even though I love being married to Thor, the stresses of doing my job as Queen have reached a point where it’s boiling over.

“I just need a break...from everyone, Hilde. Even you.”

“What did I do?!” she demands, offended.

“Nothing. You’ve been one of the good parts of being Queen, but I just need a little break from Asgard as a whole. I spent my entire childhood and teenage years alone with no one to rely on me but me.

“I just need to be alone for a bit. One week. That’s all I want. So...I know that Thor won’t be happy about it but now that you’ve seen me onto the plane-”

“I am not leaving you alone,” Hilde frowns, almost angry at you for even asking.

“David is meeting me when the plane lands and then driving me home himself. I’ll be fine being alone for just the flight,” it’s a plea as much as it is a reassurance. “Please, Hilde. Please? Please?”

The higher your pitch gets, the more she breaks, turning sympathetic.

“Please, Hilde? Please?”

She growls and rolls her eyes, holding out your carryon bag--a large brown duffel bag stuffed with clothes--so that you can take it.

“Thor is going to be pissed at me,” she grumbles. “And it’s all your fault.”

You take your bag, hang it on your shoulder, and quickly pull her in to kiss her cheek.

“Thank you, Hilde. I’ll text you as soon as I land. I promise.”

“You’d better, or I’ll come find you and stick at your side like paste.”

A stewardess comes out to peek down at you and you hurry off before Hilde can change her mind.

In no time at all, you’re in your seat, the plane up and the air, and New Asgard--Thor and his annulment of your marriage--is fading fast behind you.

When you land, no one is there to meet you.

A necessary lie. You'll have to call David in the morning and let him know what's happening. He's your lawyer and if Thor goes through with his plan, you'll need to be legally ready.

You're hit with a stab of hurt that your previously loving marriage has taken such a shift.

Still, you feel bad for lying to Hilde, but when you’d said you needed your alone time, you’d meant it.

You rent a car with your own money, ignoring the shiny black credit card that Thor had given you during your honeymoon shopping trip. The last thing you need is them tracing your movements when you just want to be left alone.

The drive home is lengthy but the peace it brings you is welcome.

Four hours of no one but yourself, the music on your radio, and endless grassy hills and small town charms streaking past your windows like long lost friends.

After an hour of driving you stop at a roadside diner. You buy a bag full of fries, smear them in lines of ketchup, grab a lemonade to go, and text Hilde that you’re with David and on your way home.

After another hour, you stop again. This time at a decently sized convenience store, newly built. It's a truck stop really and you take the chance to use the bathroom then loiter by your car as you tap the screen of your phone with your thumb, waking it up over and over again. Unable to make up your mind.

Your wallpaper taunts you. A picture of you sitting between Thor’s legs on your massive bed, his arms wrapped around you as your left hand is placed to his cheek as he kisses yours, your other arm extended as you take the picture.

It’s difficult to find the courage to unlock your phone, scroll through your contacts, and press the little phone to dial Thor.

He doesn’t pick up right away.

Sadly your marriage already feels like a past life. It feels dead. Like a good dream you’ve woken up from and you just know if you try and go back to sleep to keep it going, it’ll only turn into a nightmare.

The phone rings and rings. It goes to voicemail.

It hurts. So much more than you expected it to hurt and your tears overflow leaving salty trails along your cheeks as you hiccup and try not to sob out loud.

You lean and cry against your car for the longest two minutes of your life before your phone is ringing and vibrating in your hand.

It’s Thor, and for a second, you consider not answering. You consider disappearing. Just fading into the wilderness. Abandoning your car right here. Never making it to your little house. It's so tempting in the moment to give up your throne, which will soon be taken away from you, and start your life again.

How long would they look for you? Would they eventually assume you're dead?

Still, you know that Dr. Wilson and Dr. Alric would spill the beans and if Thor knew...

You press your free hand to your stomach and know that you can’t just vanish. This life will follow you wherever you go and as painful as it is, you’re not sorry for the baby you’ve made.

You swallow your sobbing and with all of the other things you’re not allowed to feel right now or you’ll give yourself away, bury it deep down inside.

Gliding your finger across the screen, you answer the phone and press it to your ear.

“My love,” Thor gasps, sounding stressed or tired? Labored breathing.

Your mind goes to dark places and you chase away the nasty images your mind thinks up before you can let them hurt you more.

How can he still call me that?!

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer. Forgive me. I'd left my phone on my desk and I had my hands full of books.”

Your mouth won’t open. It won’t speak.

You realize all of a sudden that you don’t want to talk to Thor. You’re so angry at him. You’re hurt and betrayed and everything he’s ever told you is a lie.

“Y/N?” he sounds so confused.

“I’m here,” you manage.

“How are you feeling, cherub?”

Stop calling me that!

“I’m not great,” you sigh, sagging against the car. “I just wanted to call you to tell you that I’m with David and we’re on our way to my house. We stopped at the store to go to the bathroom, so I thought I’d call you.”

“Wait, David? Why is David with you? Where is Brunnhilde?” Thor asks, his heavy breathing still loud.

“I asked her to stay behind,” you explain. “Look, Thor I don’t really feel well enough for talking. I just didn’t want you to worry. I promised I’d call.”

“Why would she let you go alone?” Thor demands, shouting into whatever room he’s in. “Loki! Where is Brunnhilde? Get her up here!”

“I have to go, Thor. David’s waiting. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Wait. Don’t hang up yet, cherub. Do you have a doctor to see you close to home?” Thor frets, and you can’t stand it.

“I’m coming, David!” you pretend to call, the convenience store clerk currently throwing the trash looks at you then turns his head back and forth as if searching for who you might be talking to. “Bye, Thor.”

“No, wait, love. Don’t hang-”

His voice is cut off and yet his deep tone still rings in your ears as if he were standing right beside you.

Your heart cries out for him. You wish he was there with you but then your brain reminds you that your time with Thor is already over.

The clerk is still looking at you and you give him a quick shake of your head.

“Sorry,” you start. “Bad breakup.”

He nods sympathetically as you get back in your care then gives you a wave as you drive off, setting back off into the night.

You’re not driving twenty minutes before your phone dings. A text.

Then again. And again. And again. Too many texts come through and you can’t stand it.

You reach over and completely shut it off.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s midnight when you finally get up from bed.

There’s no escaping Thor even here in your own home. Your honeymoon memories are everywhere here.

The bed. The shower. The closet--Thor was eager one morning. The kitchen. The backyard. Every room has a memory. Not all of them sex, but all of them just as poignant and meaningful.

Or so you’d thought.

You wander down the hall to your kitchen, flipping the switch as you enter and make a beeline for the vintage fridge.

“Shit-” you sigh, not even opening it as you remember that there will be no food until you go shopping for some.

You take a peek, just to confirm, and all that's inside is a half empty jar of pickles on the door.

Irritated, you move towards the pantry and grab the first box of cereal you see, pop it open and plunge your hand inside.

You scoop a bit into your mouth but just as you begin to crunch, your mouth falters at the sight of Loki sitting on one of your island stools where he clearly wasn't before, a gentle smile to compliment the knowing sharpness in his eyes.

“You heard us, didn’t you?”

You try not to react to his question, because it’s not a question. Just confirmation of what he clearly already guessed.

“You’re not really here, are you?” You finish chewing, taking more cereal into your mouth after you swallow.

You’re starving. You should have bought some burgers at that diner to reheat and eat tonight and tomorrow.

“No,” Loki confirms. “I'm...checking in. Thor doesn’t know. He’s pretty oblivious, actually. Other things on his mind.”

“Like pregnant ex-girlfriends whose baby will have a stronger claim over the Asgardian throne than mine?”

There’s a bitterness in your voice but you don’t feel sorry for it. You’re not going to hide how hurt you are.

Loki’s face finally breaks as he realizes what you mean. He gives you a small startled blink before he’s got control of his expression again.

“Don’t tell him, Loki.”

“He deserves to know.”

“Does he?” you demand, voice rising in your anger. “And I don’t deserve to know about Jane being pregnant?”

“He would have told you,” Loki assures you.

“When?” You demand, eyes stinging. “When he needed my signature on the annulment papers?”

“He’s not decided on anything yet.”

“Oh, my god! As if that even fucking matters!” you get up, throwing the box of cereal into the garbage.

They’re stale.

“The point is he thinks it’s a good idea. I married him. I thought he welcomed me into his family. I thought I belonged with him, and you and Hilde and Heimdall, but I’m just some fucking guest after all, aren’t I?”

“You’re overreacting,” Loki chastises you.

You pick up a nearby mug and chuck it at him. It goes through him and breaks against the wall behind him.

“Don’t tell me that I’m overreacting when my husband is thinking about legally erasing all traces of our marriage!

"I trusted him," you reach up and jab at your own chest somewhat painfully.

"I thought what we had was worth keeping and protecting. I was already making plans to move Jane and her baby into the palace so that our kids could grow up together, as a family but he doesn’t want that.

“He doesn’t want me in his life if he’s already got another heir lined up so why should I tell him? If he doesn’t want me without this baby then he has no right wanting me with it!”

Loki lets you shout, he lets you break down. He doesn’t judge you for it either, but he reads into it. Too much, and you hate him for it.

You don't want to be reasonable. This doesn't feel like the time for reason. You're shattered.

“He loves you, Y/N. His choice is made-”

“For the child, yes. I get that. That doesn’t make it hurt any less. And maybe I shouldn’t be angry for him doing right by his baby when I’m carrying one of my own, but I am angry. It hurts to know that in moments he was able to make the choice to end our marriage.

“He’s my husband and I am his wife. Does that seriously mean nothing?”

Loki shakes his head, “I’ve already told you that he hasn’t decided anything, yet.”

“You don’t get it, and I don’t know that you can understand what even considering the option of annulment means for us as a couple.”

Loki sighs, “I want you to listen to me very clearly, Y/N. I say this with as much love as a brother can feel for his sister. You need to understand and you need to accept that you and Thor are not a normal couple. Thor is, first and foremost, a king.

“He is beholden to his people and he needs to ensure our position on this planet because we don’t have a home anymore. We are refugees and this is our home now. It is Thor’s job to protect that on behalf of all of us by any means necessary. Choices like these are the reason that my brother resisted the throne for so long.

“As a King, all of the love in the world cannot keep him from making the choices that will benefit our people, even if the choice should hurt him in the process.”

You’re shaking with tears as Loki speaks, shaking your head as you press your hand against your tummy. Your thoughts are full of the baby growing within you and the helpless feeling that presses down on you.

“That’s why this baby changes things, Y/N. You must tell him that you’re pregnant if you are going to keep him for yourself. If you want your marriage to survive this, you can’t keep this from him.”

Shaking your head, you turn away from him to fill a small glass with water and take a small drink.

Yes, you need to tell Thor that you’re pregnant. As wounded as your pride is, you can’t keep him in the dark forever.

“My Queen?” Loki urges you, calling you by your title probably to remind you that like Thor, you have obligations even if you don’t like or want them.

“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll tell him, but not yet. Just give me this week, Loki. Please.”

When you turn to look at him again, he’s softer with his gaze.

“You’re going to let him suffer for his idea of the annulment,” he guesses.

“No,” you shake your head. “This isn’t for Thor. This is for me. Just because I understand the reason he thought of an annulment doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt anymore.

“If I saw him right now, I couldn’t even talk to him, Loki. He might have betrayed me for good reasons, but he’s still betrayed me. He still accepted, even for a few moments, that giving me up was the best thing he could do.

“And maybe it’s because he’s the-the first person that I’ve ever loved, and maybe I’m still looking at our very arranged marriage with some girl’s view of romance but I can’t separate his duty from my hurt and I-I don’t know that I can ever forgive him.”

"I suppose that's fair," Loki sighs. “I won’t say anything, I promise. But I’m going to make sure that he’s here on Friday. From there, it’s your duty as mother to a future prince or princess of Asgard to tell Thor about your pregnancy.”

You move to sit next to him, giving the bits and pieces of the mug you’d thrown at him a look as you settle.

“I’m sorry I threw a cup at your head.".

Loki smirks, “Would you believe me when I tell you that it’s happened before?”

You almost smile, “Yes. I believe it.”

Loki chuckles but you can't return the sentiment. For you, the world is still ending.

“Can you do me a favor, sister?” Loki asks, his term of endearment warms you a little.

Even if Thor found it easily to cast you off, you’re happy that Loki sees you so permanently a part of his family.

“Something tells me I’m not going to be happy about it, but sure.”

“Turn on your phone,” he glances at the phone sitting at the center of the island only inches away from you where you’d left it to avoid temptation. “Thor won’t shut up about how you’re not replying. If you really want to cherish some time alone, it would be better if you answered him. If he’s worried, he can get here within the hour. I don't suppose you want that."

"No," you shudder..

"Oh, and make sure you use your black card. He’ll be checking to make sure that you’re taking care of yourself.”

You roll your eyes, the rift between you and Thor already so big you can’t see a way to fix it.

“This contradiction of Thor loving me so much he’s worried to death and his ability to decide on annulling our marriage is hard to swallow. What’s he going to do when we’re not married anymore and I’m living here and he’s married to Jane?”

“That will never happen, Y/N seeing as you’re going to tell him that you’re pregnant and he won’t go through with an annulment.” Loki insists.

“What if he does?” you wonder. “Jane’s baby was conceived first. They’ll be heir to the throne. Not mine. What if Thor decides that an annulment is still the best course of action?”

“Then I think I’ll have to reconsider my pledge to serve him as my King. But he won’t go through with it, I promise you. Trust me. I know him. Thor is too soft hearted to hurt you like that.”

“He already hurt me, Loki. It’s just the finality of a follow through that I’m waiting for.”

“You’re so eager to be abandoned,” Loki observes, frustrated with you.

“It just feels like I already have been. I’m sorry if that bothers you, but I can’t help how I feel. Haven’t you ever thought you belonged somewhere only to find out that you’re not as accepted as you thought?”

Loki thinks for a moment, his silence heavy with memory, “I have.”

“And how long did it take you to get over it?”

Loki grins, meeting your eyes with a bit of resignation.

“A long time,” he admits.

“And mine just happened today. You expect me to be over it already? Get bent, Loki.”

Loki chuckles.

“You have a point. I’m sorry, I’ve been looking at this through the lens of being my brother’s advisor. I’ll try and do better.”

His promise is genuine and it makes you feel better that you have at least one person on your side.

“Thank you, Loki,” you sigh. “I know this isn’t an easy spot for you to be in, between me and Thor. I appreciate you coming to check on me.”

“It’s my pleasure. Thor might not have noticed the way you refused to touch him when you left today but I was instantly sure that you’d heard everything. Does it bother you that he slept with her and you on the same day?”

“Not as much as I thought it would,” you admit. “Even without him explicitly saying it, I knew that he’d been with her. I knew that it was likely that he’d slept with her. They were in love. Maybe him more than her, but they didn’t break up because they wanted to. They broke up because he needed to get married and Jane wasn’t ready to do that.

“If Thor had made more of an attempt to delay our wedding, maybe Jane would have come to him sooner with her news and Thor and I would never have gotten married. I wouldn’t be pregnant, and this would all be much less messy.”

“I’m glad he didn’t wait. I’d rather have you as a sister than Jane. She’s nice but you’re much better suited to be Queen.”

“Until my King pisses me off and I run off for a week,” you tease.

“This is an exceptional situation,” Loki nods. “I don’t think if anyone else were in your shoes, they would be any less hurt than you by the news of Jane’s baby. If she is pregnant.”

You look at him, interest piqued.

“You said something like that before, that Jane should get tested to make sure she’s pregnant. What makes you think she might not be?”

“Nothing in particular. She might be. I just really don’t want her to be. I like you for Thor, Y/N. As far as I’m concerned, you’re Asgardian now.”

“I wish Thor thought like you do.”

“He does think it, Y/N. He’s just thrown off balance right now. Give him a little time and tell him about your child. His child, and it will clear up his mind. His judgement is compromised by the fact that he has an heir from the woman he once loved and the woman he now loves has had no luck in conceiving one. Or so he thinks.”

“I already told you that I’ll tell him, Loki. I just want some time.” you sigh.

“I know. We’re talking in circles. I’ll go, let you get some rest.”

You turn to watch him, slowly he begins to dissolve into slow moving golden swirls mixed with a tinge of green.

“Oh, and check your fridge again. I’ve left you a present.”

Just as quickly as he’d shown up, he’s gone.

With a heavy heart you remember the favor he asked of you and turn on your phone.

Twenty texts chime in and you quickly scroll through them.

They’re all from Thor, save for two from Hilde.

Hilde: Thanks. Be careful.

Hilde: Snitch!

All of Thor’s are variations of the same message.

Thor: Please reply, cherub.

Thor: Are you asleep?

Thor: I’m sorry if I’m waking you up.

Thor: Are you home yet?

Thor: Are you safe?

It isn’t until the last few messages that his frenzy of worry seems to change. More resigned to your lack of response. Probably believing that you are actually asleep.

Thor: I miss you already, cherub. I can’t tell you how strange it is to lay in our bed without you.

Thor: I don’t think there’s been a night since we married aside from my visit to the outposts that I have not had your perfect body pressed to mine.

Thor: My heart aches without you.

Thor: My body craves in your absence.

Thor: My soul is empty. You are my very essence now, my sweet cherub.

Thor: I hope you’re not very ill. I could not stand to lose you.

You sob, reading his texts through paints a drastic contrast between his deep voice crying for annulment and the loving, doting, sweet husband who sent you these messages.

His text voice is also so different from the way he talks. You can hear the way he might have talked to you if he hadn’t spent so much time with the Avengers and other humans here on Earth. Jane probably heard him speak like this out loud when they first met.

She’d been his first contact with this planet.

Wiping at your tears, you clutch the phone to your chest for a moment before focusing your blurry eyes on the screen again to keep reading.

Thor: I’ve never known how essential you are to my life until this moment. I need you at my side. I am most certain of it now.

Thor: I would give my life for you. I will keep you close from now on. I don’t know if I can last a week without you, my love. Don’t hate me if I come to you tomorrow.

Thor: Loki has just told me that he’s come to see that you’ve settled into your home safely. I really need him to teach me that trick. He says you need rest and that you already have a doctor coming by in the morning.

Thor: Please tell me what they say once they’ve seen you.

Thor: Loki keeps yelling at me to let you sleep.

Thor: Goodnight, cherub. I love you. More than my life.

Thor: Please text me in the morning.

Thor: It’s Loki. I’ve taken his phone. I’ll make sure he leaves you alone for the full week. Thank you for turning your phone on.

Y/N: I’m fine, Thor. Just very tired.

And because it’s true and if you don’t say it, he’ll get suspicious:

Y/N: I love you, too.

You sniffle and lock your phone.

“Jerk,” you grieve, and move to the fridge.

Opening it again, you’re surprised to find it fully stocked this time with all of your favorite foods and treats.

Loki is seriously the best brother-in-law in the universe.

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #royal au #arranged marriage au #a wife for thor #king!thor x reader fic #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x you #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #a wife for thor pt18 #loki #loki laufeyson

[forever-rogue]

Hii! From Prompt List 1 can u do number 3,51 and 243 w javier peña please ✨

Also i love ur writings so much ⭐

3. "Am I supposed to be scared of you?"

51. "Go on them, tell me. Tell me you don't love me."

243. "Oh my God, you're in love with her!"

Enjoy!

Javier Peña x Fem!Reader ; warnings: language

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Tell me," there was nothing but venom lacing your voice as you stared at Javier. Your face was slick with tears as you tried to keep your lips from trembling. You wanted to break down, gods knew you did, but you weren't about to give him the satisfaction. You would do that as soon as he walked out of your apartment for what would be the last time, "go on then, tell me. Tell me you don't love me."

"Don't do this cariño," the bastard had the audacity to try and call you by your pet name, "you know this is the way. The only way."

"You're such a damn liar," you hissed at him. You should have seen this coming. You should have known. 

You shouldn't have fallen in love with Javier Peña.

"We always knew what we were doing was wrong," it was a meek insistence, hollow and empty and neither of you quite believed it, "it was never supposed to go this far."

"This far? This far?" you wanted to scream, to grab his shoulders and shake him, to knock some sort of sense into him, but instead you just stared at him, eyes glossy with unshed tears, "did you think we would fuck and that’s it? I told you it was never going to be just that. And you never seemed to have a problem with that."

"You need to stop," this time it was more firm and his nostrils flared as he tried to control the hit of rage that had seemed into his bones, "we both knew what this was from the start. It was just sex."

"You're here, in my apartment, lying to my face," you sniffled as you dabbed at your eyes and wished you would wake up to find this was a horrible dream. You wished you'd wake up, wrapped in his arms while he slept soundly, like you had so many other times. You wished, you wished, you wished. But that didn't change the reality of the situation, nor the gravitas of it, "if you can look in my eyes and tell me you don't love me - never loved me - do it. If you can do it, I'll let this go."

"You're being ridiculous," he huffed and rolled his eyes ever so slightly as his hands went to his hips. 

"I'm being ridiculous?" your voice rose up about two octaves as you realized just how hysterical you did sound. But it didn't matter - once Javier had made up his mind, he was a stubborn piece of work. But you refused to let this go, "I'm not the grown man that won't even admit his own feelings. That runs every time something comes up. That shuts out everyone and everything anytime it gets real."

"Maybe you're just thinking too much into this!" and there it was - the fiery temper that he was famous for. It wasn't shocking because it had suddenly jumped out; it was shocking because he'd never raised his voice at you, "maybe you just want to make something out of nothing! It was never anything - it was just sex. Why can't you just accept that?"

"Am I supposed to be scared of you?" you raised your voice and yelled back with just as much as anger and spite as he spit at you, "you're a liar and a coward. You can't even look at me - if you don't love me fucking tell me!"

"I'm not doing this right now," he huffed as stepped over the threshold, shoulders rising and falling in rapid movements as tired to control his anger, "I'm done - whatever we had, its over now."

"Javier," you tried to reach for his hand, but he was quick to pull out of your grasp, causing you to sigh heavily, "don't walk away - not like this."

"There's nothing left to say," he insisted quietly, staring at the floor, rather than daring to look in your eyes, "I'll see you at work and that's that. Everything else is done. Obviously you cannot handle this."

"You're just going to walk away," you were incredulous as a few tears of grief and anger rolled down your cheeks, "fuck you, Javier. I hate you." 

You slammed the door shut before he could say anything else. Tears were heavily pouring down your cheeks and spilling onto the cool slide as you sank to the floor. Small ugly little sobs racked your body as you gave up and in to your pathetic inner, upset self. You loved him, you really, really did. You knew that. 

You knew he loved you too. You knew he was scared. Damn scared. And it was okay - if he would have opened up to you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You look like shit,” Steve barely looked up from his coffee and morning review of documents as Javier stormed in, practically slamming himself down in his chair. He groaned and flipped Steve the middle finger before reaching for his cigarettes, effortlessly lighting it up and leaning back, “what happened to you?”

Javier closed his eyes but remained silent, a vain attempt at letting his mind wander too far. He hadn’t slept the night before, mind and thoughts racing over and over with snippets of his conversation with you. Your words had stuck in his mind all night: coward, coward, coward. And you had been right. 

He was a coward; pathetic and scared all because he didn’t want to risk getting hurt. Or hurting you. And in the end he had managed to do both. It was never supposed to go this far, it was never supposed to be anything more than sex, but the lines had become so blurred and so fast, and before he knew - he was in love.

And that terrified the shit out of him. 

So he reacted how he tended to do; to push you away. To isolate himself. It was supposed to be easy, supposed to work. All it had down was leave him with regret eating him up alive. He should have admitted you were right, he should have confessed. If there was anyone worth taking a chance on - it was you. He’d known it was you from the first time you’d had sex it was just...different. Different from every other experience he’d had. And gods, how he’d slowly fallen for all the little things you did, all your little quirks. 

Your smile, that laugh, those eyes that seemed to convey a million emotions at once. Your steadfast stubbornness, the fact that you always called him on his bullshit, how you never backed down from confrontation, how you gave so much to others and asked for so little. How you’d chide him for getting even a papercut, and how you’d love him, even when he didn’t ask you to. How you;d take him in your arms, wordlessly, and give him everything he needed and then some, how you’d chase away his fears and pain. How - 

Everything. 

He was in deep, and when it came down to the wire, he’d run. Like a liar and a coward. 

His eyes snapped open and landed on the desk, the spot you normally occupied and found it empty. A scowl tugged on his features as his brows knitted together, “where is she?”

“Hmm?” Steve looked back up and followed Javi’s line of sight before he shrugged lightly, “I talked to her this morning, said she wasn’t feeling good.”

“Bullshit,” he hissed under his breath, just enough for Steve to hear, “did she say when she’s coming back?”

“I dunno, Javi,” Steve sighed heavily, “she’s a grown woman, if she’s not feeling well, she’s not feeling well. She’ll be back when she’s better. Calm down.”

“Steve-”

“Oh god - you’re in love with her. Aren’t you?” the smirk tugging on his features was undeniable as Javier rolled his eyes but refused to look over, “I knew it - everyone knew it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” his mouth went dry as he looked at his partner and felt like slamming his head against the wall. Of course. It’s so obvious.

“I mean...it’s just...everyone’s known, Javi,” Steve couldn’t help but laugh at the surprised look on his face, “it’s so obvious. You’re different because of her - for her. You might be the last person to know. Shit...you haven’t told her, have you?”

Javier made a small sound in his throat but otherwise remained silent as he stared at your desk. Not feeling well my ass, he thought to himself before running a hand over his tired face. 

But you didn’t come back the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. Or - 

Shit. He had really messed up. 

You were all he could think about, plaguing his waking and sleeping hours as he tried to figure out what to do. His mind was on you as he sat in the office and smoked cigarette after cigarette and glossed over paperwork. You were in his every thought as he and Steve chased after some of Escobar’s men; so much that he almost slipped up and let them get away. 

By Friday afternoon, he couldn’t handle it any longer. This was ridiculous and he was going to put an end to it all, one way or another.

Javier almost jumped out of his seat, grabbing his leather jacket and half empty pack of cigarettes without a word as he stormed out of the office. Steve barely looked up in time to catch him, his question dying on his tongue as he watched his partner storm out. He didn’t have to ask to know exactly what was going on.

Finally, he thought to himself shaking his head, finally. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Open the door," Javier's voice was commanding but it still managed to shake as he rapped his knuckles against the peeling paint of your door, "cariño, I know you're in there…"

And you were. You were curled up on the couch in your pajamas, an empty bottle of wine on the table as an old, cheesy romance movie played in the background. The lights were off and you were tired, but you still couldn't manage to find sleep. 

You'd avoided going into the office for the last couple of days, feigning illness and earning a scoff from the ambassador, but nothing else was said. In the time you'd been in Colombia, you'd never so much as used a single sick day, so they didn't question you. But of course your partners did. Well, one of them. The other had known exactly what was going and it had been eating him up inside, even if he wasn't ready to admit it.

But his little heart to heart with Steve had inspired him - practically shoved him in the right direction. You'd been on his mind rent free since he'd left. Hell - for much longer than that.

"Go away," you managed to croak out before burrowing further into your pillow, feeling a fresh wave of tears spill down your cheeks at his presence. Knowing you almost had him but didn't was heartbreaking, "you made it clear we have nothing, Javier.”

“Open the damn door,” there was a tone in his voice that you hadn’t heard before - was that...desperation? Javier paused and sighed heavily, “please. I-I...fuck, I fucked up.”

“If you’re going to play some sort of cruel joke, save your breath,” you huffed, “like you said, we are nothing. We’ll be work partners and that’s it.”

There was a beat of silence and a part of you thought he left, you were almost relieved at the thought. But before you knew it, you heard the keys jingling in the lock and the door opened; you cursed yourself for giving him a spare set. Either way, he probably could have figured out how to get in anyways. He just couldn’t let it go.

“Cariño,” he came and swiftly made his way over to you, frowning when he saw you all curled up and the discarded mess around you, "I-"

"Go away, Javi," it was a pathetic plea as you glanced up at him. His heart felt it was going to shatter and break at the sight of your red, glossy eyes as you sniffled at him, "haven't you done enough? Or should I be apologizing for having feelings and being honest about them?"

"I should be begging you for forgiveness," he dropped to his knees beside you, a hand tentatively reaching out to you, as he tried to see if you would pull away. Despite wanting to, instead wishing you could yell and scream, you stay rooted in position as he gently pushed your hair out of your hair. He brushed his thumb gently over your cheek as your eyes fluttered closed at the familiar touch, "I am so sorry."

"Sorry for what?" your brow furrowed at his words, "you made yourself very clear."

"I fucked up - you're right. I am a liar and a coward," he confessed as your eyes snapped back open to meet his. They were gentle, softened in the corners with the crinkles that you adored so much, "I realized I had feelings and I panicked. I shut you out and hurt you."

"My head hurts, Javier," you sighed slightly, "just get to the point."

"I love you," he admitted and suddenly it felt your heart had dropped into your stomach as you stared at him. He was sure you must have heard the wild beating of his heart as he tried to anticipate your reaction, "I-I'm in love with you."

"If this is your idea of a joke," you moved his hand away and sat up, trying to prepare yourself for any possibility, "its even more fucked up than just breaking my heart. I knew what this started this and I should have stopped it when I started to catch feelings but I-"

But Javier didn't let you say anything further. Instead, he cut you off by crashing his lips onto yours and kissing you deeply - slowly and with meaning. It was an easy dance, one you'd done hundreds of times before. But this time just felt...different.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close, and yours wound around his neck. Effortless and easy, just like everything with him was. It was anything frenzied or hurried, but slow and gentle as he tried to convey his every thought and feeling through his touch. He thought his heart might burst when he felt your smile whilst his lips, as you carded a hand through his dark locks.

Only when you were both breathless and drunk off of each other did you pull apart. He stared at you, his gaze soft as you grabbed his face and delicately cradled it before pressing another kiss to his lips.

"I hope this means what I think it means or I'm going to have to murder you," you whispered against his lips, as his own tugged into a smile, "because I am in love you and I don't know if I can ever change that."

"It means I'm an idiot," he admitted, "a cowardly fool that ran when things got real - although they were always real. Its obvious, isn't it? I just never realized."

"That's because you gave a thick skull, Peña," you gently tapped a knuckle against the side of his head, "and you need to learn to be more open - with me anyway. You don't have to be afraid, Javi. Not with me; I'm not going anywhere, you know that. I know you - the real you - and nothing about you scares me or whatever you think it is. I love you and that means every little bit of you."

"I…" he paused for a moment, inhaling and exhaling slowly as your words washed over him. His heart had never felt warmer or more light as he realized the immense weight your words held. He closed his eyes and nodded, gently pressing his forehead against yours, "I love you. Fully and completely cariño. Even if I am an idiot."

"My idiot," you promised softly, "just talk to me next time, okay? Don't run and hide - stay with me. It'll be okay, you will always have me."

"Fuck," he whispered as he pulled you into his arms and wrapped you up in the tightest hug possible, "I'm sorry - so sorry. I love you."

"I love you, Javier," you whispered, "stay with me?"

"Always."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x fem!reader #javier peña x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #narcos #forever-rogue's follower celebration

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow: day 2

Day 02/25 Days of Christmas: Character A’s best friend rigs the Secret Santa because they know Character A has a crush on Character B,, percabeth

Percy is so distracted that he almost doesn’t catch someone whispering his name across the room. When he realizes that it’s Leo calling his name, he wishes he hadn’t noticed because he knows that whatever is about to come out of that kid’s mouth is not going to be good.

“What?” Percy hisses when Leo doesn’t stop the rather obvious hissing.

Leo stands up from the table along the wall so that he can make his way across the dorm’s common room and plop down directly next to Percy. “So.”

When he says nothing else, Percy prompts, “So…?”

“You’re in love with Annabeth, yeah?”

“I’m sorry — what?”

“You, like, want to marry her.”

Percy swallows, eyes darting towards the girl that was only sitting a few feet away. “I don’t.”

“Yeah, okay big boy. Suuure you don’t want to marry her.”

“Maybe shut up, yeah?”

Leo gives his signature impish grin. “I’m just speaking the truth.”

“Yeah, well, your truth sucks.”

Percy wishes he could say that Leo was lying through his teeth like he usually does, but this one’s the painful reality. He was in love with his best friend, and Leo was shouting it out to the world, and also to Annabeth who was practically right next to him. For once, he’s glad that she can’t ever listen to people talking while she’s studying.

“Here’s the thing.” Leo pats Percy’s hand like he was consoling a child. “Secret Santa.”

“What about it?”

“You’re going to get Annabeth.”

The way that Leo whispers it is only mildly comical. It sounds more like he’s praying than telling, in Percy’s opinion. “What, are you manifesting it or something?”

“No. I’m rigging Secret Santa.”

“What!? No!”

“You want to date her, don’t you?” When Percy opens his mouth to disagree, Leo continues, “The answer is yes, you do. And to be honest, I’m sick of watching you two flounder around each other, so this is more for my benefit than yours.”

“You’re an ass.”

“You won’t be saying that when you get married, buddy.”

Percy gives him a scathing look as he pointedly turns his head away from Leo. Leo mutters something under his breath that Percy does not bother to decipher because it would probably make Percy want to stab someone in the name of Christmas spirit. He’s already mortified enough that everyone seems to know about his infatuation with his best friend, probably including Annabeth too, so he does not need Leo to rub it in even more.

“Percy,” Leo grunts as his fingers wrap around Percy’s neck and pull in an attempt to get Percy to face him again. He ends up choking for air as Leo cuts off his trachea, and Leo clambers to grab a fistful of hair instead. Percy lets out a strangled shriek as he is pulled off the couch sharply by his head.

“Stop it!”

“Listen to me,” Leo says, peering over the edge at where Percy is now laying on the floor, rubbing the back of his head. Percy ends up staying on the floor so that he’s out of Leo’s reach. “When we get together for Secret Santa, you’re going to pick first. Pick the one that has green marker on the outside.”

“And break the rules of the game?”

“It’s still a secret to her. Do it.”

Percy doesn’t plan on doing it. The few hours waiting for the rest of their friends to meet up are spent with him going back and forth in his own mind as to why he should definitely not pick her name. It defeats the whole purpose of the game, but at the same time, she won’t know that he purposely picked her. But on the other hand, if he somehow manages to win her over with whatever gift he picks out, he’ll have to admit it at some point. With his luck, they’d be married about to have a baby when he’s like oh yeah, by the way, I purposely got you because I’m a cheater, and she’ll be so offended, all oh yeah, by the way, I’m also a cheater and it’s not your baby, and his heart will shatter into a million pieces.

So perhaps he’s being a little dramatic, but he likes to think his concerns are at least somewhat legitimate. Like, maybe 43 percent valid.

In the end though, Percy catches sight of that green mark on a slip of paper, and his hand grabs it with a mind of its own. As he uncurls the paper, he traces over her writing with his finger. He swears he could pick her writing out of a line up, with the unique curves of her penmanship.

Percy pretends not to notice Leo’s mocking grin from across the circle, instead turning his attention towards Annabeth, watching her pick out his name.

For the next few days, Percy doesn’t think he’s ever been more stressed. It’s as though Percy doesn’t even know Annabeth anymore because he’s suddenly at a blank for anything that she likes. He can’t even remember her favorite color or lifelong dreams because he’s just that nervous. He’s beginning to wish that he hadn’t picked that green slip, but it was too late to go back now. He had no choice but to make an embarrassment of himself when he shows up with something awful, or nothing at all.

It comes unexpectedly when he finds the present. It’s a simple ring with a silver band and an emerald sitting in the center, and it practically has her name written on it. He imagines what it would look like sitting on her finger, the green gem gleaming in the sunlight, reminiscent of his eyes.

It’s not until after he makes the purchase that it dawns on him how much of a boyfriend thing it is to buy someone a ring. And, of course, Annabeth would say something about it being an engagement ring because that’s just what she does, and he would die on the spot. He loves her so much, but she doesn’t know that, and a ring would no doubt reveal at least some of what he was feeling if she somehow didn’t already know.

He dreads the day of Secret Santa.

All too soon, he is sitting in a circle with his friends, everyone holding a present in their hands. When it comes time to exchange the gifts, Percy hesitantly hands his to Annabeth. He can sense the shock on her face, and a warm sense fills him as he also senses the underlying excitement in her face.

“You got me something expensive, right?” she asks playfully.

“You wish,” is what he replies, but his painfully empty wallet disagrees.

Annabeth smiles at him, a cute dimple appearing on her cheek, as she pulls the tissue paper out of the present bag. She makes an offhanded comment about the Rudolph gift bag before she pulls out everything at once. He hadn’t wanted to just get her one thing, so he stuffed it with a few of her favorite snacks. Leo had called him a simp when he found out.

“Hurry up,” he chides. “Get off my ass, Percy,” she says, but she picks up the small box he knows contains the ring. The rest of the room seems to drown out as she flicks open the top. He catches sight of the ring in the box, and now he really wants to pass out, or throw up, or both.

Annabeth’s face is unreadable as she thumbs the gem. Then, her face breaks into a soft grin and he feels marginally better. “A ring?”

“I saw it and thought of you. I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was paid for.” He bites his lip. “I can return it if you don’t want it. I know it might seem weird, but I just really wanted—“

Annabeth uses her socked foot to nudge his knee and get him to stop talking. “I really love it, Percy.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do,” she says, rolling her eyes. She slides it onto her left ring finger, holding it up for her own inspection. “It’s like an engagement ring!”

Percy cracks a grin. “I knew you’d say that.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” she adds. “I’d love being engaged to you. You’d be the world’s best husband.”

Percy’s heart nearly stops.

“God, I love you,” she groans, crawling over the floor so that she can collapse in his lap like a wet noodle. It’s not unusual for them. They’ve always been the two to cuddle platonically during a movie, or just take a nap together, but nothing more. Right now though, Percy feels like this is a lot more than usual as he wraps his arms around her in a hug.

Annabeth lifts herself back up, and he nearly whines at the loss of contact. That is quickly taken off his mind though as she turns around with a present in hand.

“Your turn,” she says, and Percy’s jaw drops open.

“You got me!” he exclaims excitedly, reaching for the present.

“I know,” she says teasingly. “I nearly gagged when I picked your name.”

“Nice to see that you care.”

She patters her feet against the floor excitedly. “Open it!”

And he does. The bag is slightly bigger than hers was, so he struggles a bit to get the item out. When he does though, he feels like crying. He’s met with a thin silver frame, but inside of it is what really gets him. It’s a painting of the two of them — a picture he thought he lost a long time ago. Her arms are thrown over his shoulders from behind as she gives him a kiss on the cheek, and Percy is staring directly into the camera, the biggest smile on his face. He remembers taking that years ago on a stranger’s polaroid. He carried it around forever, everywhere he went, until it just seemed to disappear one day. He was so distraught because it was the only copy, but he’s forgotten about it until now, and—

Percy’s eyes begin to brim with tears. “Where did you get this?”

“I took a picture of it,” she says gently. “There was someone on etsy that was painting pictures, and so I thought you’d like to have this one.”

“God.” Percy’s eyes trace over the image, trying to burn the picture into his mind, every single curve and color. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

“It’s no ring, but…”

“Annabeth,” Percy says, stopping her. “I love it.”

“And I love you.”

Something burns in Percy’s stomach. There’s something in the way that she’s looking at him that makes his breath stutter. It’s too soft and she’s too close to him. He wants so badly to pull her in close, to hug her and kiss her because she’s wearing his ring and a sweater she stole from his closet and she’s his best friend that he’s in love with.

Percy’s face is suddenly in front of Annabeth’s, and he can feel her breaths hitting his face. He doesn’t know if people are watching, but he can’t be bothered enough to check.

“Thank you,” Percy whispers. “It means a lot.”

“I’m sure it did.”

There’s a comfortable pause where Percy just looks at her, counts her eyelashes, appreciates the perfect curve of her nose before she says, “Are you going to kiss me or just stare?”

Percy smiles and takes that as an invitation. He wraps his fingers around the curve of her back, pulling her onto his lap and bringing her lips to his. It feels like he’s kissing his best friend, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s not a perfect kiss because she’s tangled awkwardly in his limbs, both of them sprawled on the floor, and there are people screaming around them, but it’s still everything he’s ever thought it would be.

When he finally pulls away, she’s looking at him with something akin to love. He smiles, and so does he, and Leo makes a snarky comment, and he never wants to leave this moment.

“So,” she says, breathless and happy, “I have something to tell you.”

“You love me?”

“That, and I may have purposely picked your name.”

Percy throw his head back and laughs, and he thinks that he’s met his soulmate.

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #pjo #Percy Jackson and the olympians #my writing

[calpalirwin]

Lover of Mine

Summary: Steve admits to his mistakes.

Word Count: 2.9k

And away, and away we go!

__

Steve had never meant to fall in love with Peggy Carter. But in a weird way he couldn’t put words to, she reminded him of Bucky. Strong-minded, and maybe a little too arrogant at times. Caring. And a terrible sight to behold if you crossed her. And when she smiled at him like he was the only one in the room? He’d always been a sucker for people who made him feel desired.

He missed Bucky, and Peggy had been there, and his heart tried to reconcile the difference until it couldn’t anymore.

With Peggy it was easy. He could kiss her in crowded rooms without a blush covering him from head to toe. He could do so many of the traditional things he’d been too scared to do with Bucky. And Peggy hadn’t fallen off a train, leaving him to worry about her whereabouts.

But Bucky? Bucky was everything Steve had of his past. The reason he had survived long enough to have a future. And it never seemed to matter how many moments he lost with Bucky, as they always had a way of falling back together as if they’d never been apart. And they could console each other’s nightmares in a way that no one else could. There were no secrets or hiding harsh realities, as they both accepted the darkest parts of each other with the same fierceness they accepted the bright parts. No matter how many times they fell, the other was always there to catch. Safety. Home. A sense of belonging. That was what he had with Bucky.

Until he had let it all slip through his finger tips. And for what? A woman who he only loved because she felt like Bucky? A mistake of epic proportions when he had the real thing all along. And he knew it. He knew it the second Bucky had spat out the words, “I said get out, Captain.” But he had been helpless to stop what he had never meant to set into motion. 

So out of the apartment and into the night he had walked, head hung in shame.

He’d gotten three blocks before he realized he had left his dog tags on Bucky’s dresser.

And in the morning, he broke up with Peggy too. And in doing so, left himself utterly alone until he found the strength to drag himself across town to Bucky’s doorstep, ready to rectify his mistakes.

~~~

Bucky shoved his hands deep in his pockets, lengthening his strides as the rain started to fall. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, and he would have broken out in a slow jog to avoid getting soaked, but his apartment was coming into sight. He’d make it. Barely. But he’d make it.

He would have walked straight past the man sitting on the steps outside, if the man’s words of “Huh. So those are where my dog tags went. Been looking for those,” didn’t freeze him in his tracks.

Bucky didn’t say anything as Steve rose to his feet, his blonde hair and the shoulders of his jacket drenched darkly with the rain.

“Wow… Sam was right… You do have a staring problem,” Steve tried to joke with a smile.

“Can I help you, Captain?” Bucky asked, not bothering to soften the bite of his tone.

Steve let out a long sigh. “Can we not do this? The attitude?”

Bucky looked skyward, the rain falling faster and heavier. He may not be able to get drunk, but he could still catch a wicked cold if he stayed out here much longer. And as much as he hated it, he still knew Steve well enough to know that the man was shivering based on the slight tremor in his jaw as he tried to stop his teeth from clacking together. “I suppose you want to come inside, then?”

“Sure beats the alternative of freezing to death. Wasn’t really a fan of that.”

Another bad attempt at a joke that Bucky didn’t take the bait for. Instead, he titled his head towards the building. “C’mon, then.”

Steve smiled, following after Bucky into the building and then Bucky’s apartment. “Thanks, Buck.”

“I wouldn’t thank me yet, Rogers. Don’t mistake my not wanting to get sick as any sort of warm welcome upon seeing you. So I’ll only ask you this once. What do you want?”

Steve perched himself on the edge of the couch, watching as Bucky shrugged out of his leather jacket, draping it over a chair to dry. “I wanted to talk if that’s alright,” he answered.

“You know,” Bucky said, tongue clicking in his cheek. “Maybe they should have called you Captain Obvious instead of Captain America. Because, funnily enough, I worked out that you wanted to talk all on my own.”

“Bucky…” Steve said, feeling his own temper start to flare.

“Steve,” Bucky spat back, before disappearing down the hall.

“I came here to apologize, but if you’re going to insist on acting like a chi-” Steve began to lecture, before Bucky reappeared with a clean black t-shirt in his hand.

“Change. I won’t have you dying on my watch,” was the order before the shirt came flying at his face.

Steve shed his own jacket, but his fingers fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “Ah, to hell with it,” he mumbled. He quickly discarded his shirt, lying it alongside his jacket, before slipping into Bucky’s, the warmth bone deep. “What?” he snapped at Bucky who was staring at him with a bemused grin.

“Nothing,” the older man said, the slight smirk still painted on his lips. “Sometimes it’s easy to forget that you were always the shy kid, is all. So… an apology?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Wow… Thanks. Means a lot,” Bucky deadpanned.

“James Buchanan…” Steve growled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Steven Grant,” Bucky taunted back.

Steve pushed himself to his feet. “You know what? This was stupid. Good seeing you, Buck.”

“Wait. No. Don’t go,” Bucky said, still in that same dead tone.

“Fuck you, Bucky.” There was no malice in the words however, just a weariness as Steve headed for the door.

“Oh, my God,” Bucky muttered with an eye roll. “Sit down, Rogers, before I make you sit down.”

Steve turned, arms crossing as he glared across the room at Bucky. “You can’t order me around.”

“Like hell I can’t. Sit. Your ass. Down!”

“Why should I? I came here to try and talk to you, but I’m not gonna sit here and listen to you make snide remarks the whole time. So you can either cool it with the attitude, or I’m leaving.”

With a growl, Bucky stalked across the apartment, grabbing Steve’s arm. “I told you to sit down.” If the tone of the command wasn’t enough to chill Steve, the flash in Bucky’s eyes was.

Fine,” he relented through gritted teeth, swallowing thickly.

Bucky let go of Steve’s arm, taking two steps back. “Do you want like… something to drink, or something?” Bucky asked, avoiding looking at Steve by walking towards the kitchen, his voice changing to what Steve knew to be his cautiously polite voice.

“Whatever’s fine, thank you,” Steve replied in the same tone, taking a seat on the couch again. Awkward politeness was better than the bitter hostilities. “So, um…” Steve started as Bucky rummaged about in the kitchen. “How have things been?”

“You don’t have to do that. Make small talk to try, and make this less awkward than it is. And for what it’s worth, I apologize for my attitude. I, um, wasn’t expecting to have a visitor. Much less have that visitor be you.”

“Yeah. I would have called, but…”

“Figured I couldn’t ignore you if you sat on my doorstep in the rain?”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on the rain bit.”

Bucky let out a small scoff of a laugh as he joined Steve on the couch, a steaming mug in either of his hands. “Here.”

“What is it?” Steve asked, taking the offered mug.

“Just drink it.”

Hesitantly, Steve took a sip, the hot chocolate burning his tongue and throat, warming him in the same manner Bucky’s shirt had. “Mmm,” he sighed, taking another deeper sip before setting the cup aside. “Thank you.”

“Okay. This time, I’m not actually trying to be rude. But why are you here?”

“Like I said, I came to talk. To apologize.”

“What about?”

“I made a mistake. Lots of them, actually. But I shouldn’t have left that night. And I’m sorry that I did.”

“Well, it’s not like I really gave you the choice to stay.”

“I still shouldn’t have left. Should’ve fought harder. Explained better.”

“Break my heart a little less painfully? Tear us apart with a little more grace? Run away a little less scared?” 

The edge was back in Bucky’s tone, and Steve couldn’t blame him for it. “Hurting you was never my intention, Buck.”

“Mmm, well you know what they say about intentions. The road to hell is paved with the good ones.”

There was silence as Steve reached to drink from his cup again, collecting his thoughts. “I broke things off with Peggy. The night after I left.”

“Wow. Heartbreak Rogers. 2 for 2. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Bucky…”

“What? Am I supposed to be happy to hear that you broke up with her? Should I be jumping about with joy that you feel you made a mistake?”

“No…”

“Good. Because you still broke me, Steve. And nothing erases that. Nothing fixes that.”

“I know.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Bucky asked, his voice tight as he tried to keep it from breaking. “If you think you made a mistake that night and immediately ended things with her as a result, why did it take you six months to come back?”

“Because I thought you hated me. God knows I hated myself.”

“Then why come back at all?”

“Because even though you might hate me, I’m still in love with you.”

Bucky barked out a laugh full of pain as he rubbed his face. “That’s great… That’s really great…”

“Bucky, I’m serious.”

“Oh, I bet you are. So in love with me, you fell for someone else. So in love with me, you left!”

“I told you, I made a mistake. Lots of them. The only reason I fell for her was because she reminded me of you.”

“How romantic…”

“It was always you, Buck. It’s always gonna be you. Loving you is the only thing I have ever gotten right.”

“If it was the only thing you got right, then why did you give it up? Why did you let me go?”

“Because I didn’t know what else to do. That night… Everything was spinning out of control so fast… And you were so hurt… I just wanted it all to stop. Wanted you to stop hurting. So I did what you told me to do. I left. But all I did was make more of a mess of things.”

“So what? You want me back? Is that what this talk is? You want another chance?”

“No. I mean… Yes, I want you back, and yes, I want another chance. But I’m not stupid enough to hope that’ll happen. I just came to tell you that I really am sorry for hurting you. Not as a ploy to win you back. Not as an attempt at being forgiven. Because I don’t deserve to be forgiven, and I certainly don’t deserve to have you back. I really messed up, Buck. I hurt the one person I love most in the world. And I’ll never stop being sorry for it.”

“And what happens if I do take you back? Hypothetically speaking. How do I know you won’t leave again? That I won’t have to relive this pain? Because, I’ll be honest… I’ve survived a lot of things I shouldn’t have been able to survive. I mean… I lost an arm falling off a train for God’s sake. I was a POW torture victim. But none of it hurt me as badly as not having you. None of it comes close to the pain I’ve felt these last couple months. You had me questioning everything I thought I knew.”

“I know… Like you said, nothing is going to erase, or fix what I did. That’s why I’m not being stupid enough to ask for another chance, no matter how badly I want one. But Bucky, I swear to you that I’ll never make this mistake again. If you decide you want me back, I’ll never let you go. You’re the only love I’m ever going to want, and if you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

The emotions were too high. Having Steve say everything Bucky ever wanted him to say since the break up was too much. But words only went so far. “Damn you…” Bucky said softly, before he was leaning in to kiss Steve. “God damn you,” he continued to murmur as Steve melted under the force of Bucky’s lips on his, sinking into the couch as Bucky kept moving closer.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Steve whispered back, pulling Bucky on top of him while he laid flat against the couch, their lips still locked.

“I should hate you,” Bucky breathed, his lips hungrily moving down Steve’s jaw to his throat. And he should. He knew he should hate Steve for leaving. Should stop kissing him and tell him to leave. But God, it felt so good, feeling the love that lingered flare back to life. 

“I know. I know,” Steve panted, carding his fingers through Bucky’s hair, arching his back as metal fingertips pushed their way up his stomach, growing familiar once more with the flat expanse of tightly toned muscle. “God, Bucky!” was the gasp when Bucky’s other hand cupped the crotch of his jeans.

“I should ruin you the way you ruined me,” he rasped, teeth nipping into Steve’s skin, intent on leaving his mark everywhere he could. A filthy promise of what the night could hold, rather than a scorned musing of bitterness. 

The moan that rippled past Steve’s lips was heavenly as his fingers tightened in Bucky’s hair. “Ruin me then. Hate me, and ruin me. I don’t care, Bucky, just whatever it is, don’t stop. Please. I need you.” The words dripped with desperation as Steve rocked his hips against Bucky’s hand.

Bucky halted his movements, lifting up his head to look down at Steve who’s whimpered moan got stuck in his throat. He didn’t want to hate or ruin Steve. He never wanted Steve to feel even an ounce of the pain Bucky had been feeling. He wanted… God, what did he want? He wanted this moment. And he wanted it not to be ruined by his doubts about being able to trust Steve again. And he wanted Steve to understand that he could never hate him. The metal hand that had been on Steve’s stomach now came to grip lightly at Steve’s chin. “I don’t hate you,” Bucky said. “You hear me? I don’t hate you.”

Steve nodded rapidly, swallowing thickly. “I’ve missed you.”

Bucky chuckled, deciding to voice his doubts. “You’re only saying that cuz my hand’s still on your cock.”

Steve shook his head. “No. I mean it. I’ve missed you.”

Bucky squeezed his hand lightly, smirking when Steve’s eyes rolled and fought to stay open. “Don’t lie to me, sweetheart.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve squirmed. “I’ve missed this part, too. A lot. But I’ve missed you more. Missed loving you more.”

“The night’s barely starting. You’re sure another chance is what you want?” It was both a taunt, and a last ditch effort on Bucky’s part to maybe stop himself from the risk of letting Steve back in.

“Please?” Steve’s eyes were solemn as they stared up into Bucky’s. “Let me love you again. I swear I’ll get it right this time.”

Bucky sat up, breaking every point of contact with Steve, who scrambled upright himself. Bucky’s chest heaved, trying to calm both the sexual urge and panic coursing through him. God, he wanted so badly to believe Steve, and lose himself in him like they used to. But make up sex wasn’t a cure.

“Bucky?” Steve asked softly, his hand stroking up Bucky’s arm. “Hey, talk to me.”

“I want to, Steve. God, you have no idea how bad I want this. But I-”

“Gaining your trust back isn’t going to happen over a single night of make up sex. I know. I know this isn’t going to be easy, and I know it’s going to take time. But I’ll make it worth it. Piece by piece I’ll fix what I broke. Just let me try. Please? Take me back. Take all of me, and I’ll never give up whatever you give me back. I love you.”

“Say that again. That last part.”

“I love you.”

“One more time.”

Steve grinned, moving to close the space between him and Bucky. “I love you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against Bucky’s cheeks. “I love you. And nothing will ever change that.”

Bucky turned his head, nuzzling his nose against Steve’s. “God I’ve been waiting so long to hear you say that.”

“I’ll say it until my lungs give out.”

The fingers of Bucky’s right hand curled into a fist around Steve’s shirt. “Stay with me tonight? And maybe every night after that?”

Steve grinned wider. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

“Forever. Because that’s how long I’m gonna love you.”

“Does this mean we’re at the part where I thank you?” Steve asked with a sly smile. 

“Only if that thanks includes you winding up in my bed.”

“I think we can arrange that.”

“God, I love you.”

__

Tag List

@cxddlyash​ @stanofalotofthings​ @philthepegacorn​ @youngblood199456​ @binxiboo​ @creator-appreciator​ @felixtok​ @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof​ @jessalyn-jpeg​ @lilyoflower​ @mychemicalimagines​ @rougese7en @milea​ @partiesandblurrypolaroids​ @summerdaughter​

#lover of mine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #bucky barnes x steve rogers #stucky #marvel #calpal irwin

[yuta-nakamots]

119 - n.jm

Pairing - Jaemin x Reader

Genre - Horror/Thriller, Angst

Warnings - Cheating, familial problems, character death, mentions of sex (though no descriptions of it), blood, violence, public humiliation (not in a nsfw way), yandere tendencies

Summary - Misfortune is all around you though you were never the true victim of it until now with Jaemin by your side. Will you make it through these troubles or die trying? Will you be killed or become the killer?

Word Count - 4.1k

Written for the #NeoHalloween writing festival hosted by @nct-writers​. Check out the masterlist here.

To say that your life was rough would be just about an understatement. As a third-year student in university, you had already moved out on your own and had begun supporting yourself. Though your family was wealthy, it didn’t mean that everything in your life was handed to you on a silver platter because not everything that glitters is gold.

Your mother, who used to be a strong businesswoman who started up her own brand, was left heartbroken and devastated when she found out your father and seemingly loving husband had been having an affair for the past two years. She turned to alcohol and drugs in order to forget her sorrows and give her relief if only for a short while. You didn’t know what happened to your father after he moved out, only that he was happy with the woman he had been cheating with.

It soon became an addiction and you tried your best to save her. You scheduled and brought her into therapy appointments and followed her doctor’s orders to keep a close eye on her, but there’s only so much a college student can do. Your younger brother wasn’t helping at all either.

Chenle, only a year younger than you, has had his eyes set on taking over your mother’s business ever since he realized that special treatment he got at school from others when they heard his last name. He fed into your mother’s addictions and would reverse all the progress you made with her. “Don’t you want her money? She’s not in any state to get back in the business world so let’s just take what she has and run.” Chenle told you one night after you had finally succeeded at putting your mother to bed.

You looked at Chenle, appalled that he would even dare to say such a thing, even more at the fact that he had been thinking about this for so long. “We’re her children,” you reminded him, “she will share it with us as she wishes and she can make a comeback if you just stopped making things worse.”

“Me? Making things worse?” Chenle scoffed, mocking his disbelief. “I’m only helping things along. The faster she stops breathing, the faster we’ll get her money and I’ll get her business.” You could only shake your head at him as you pulled him out of your mother’s bedroom that now seemed much too large for her frail self. “Think about it, we can take over and split it fifty-fifty and the media would love us for it. ‘Zhong children take over their mother’s business after her passing in honor of her legacy’. Come on, can’t you see it?”

You felt nauseous at the images Chenle was painting in your mind and you knew there was only so much more of this that you could handle before you reached your own breaking point.

That’s why you brought your mother into a care home when you and Chenle were supposed to be at school. He wouldn’t know where you took her and you chose to pay for it using the money in your own bank account, though admittedly most of it was your mother’s money. Your parents had already bought you your own apartment when you first entered college, in case you wanted more independence though your mother’s condition is what stopped you from leaving. But the same day you left her at the care home was the same day you finally moved in.

As long as your mother was away from Chenle and you went in to check on her daily, everything would be fine, so you thought. You had even met your neighbor and he helped you move in. He was your age, even attended the same school, and went by the name of Jaemin.  

Ever since your first year in college, your life had already been filled with issues from your own family on top of the already heavy workload from classes, leaving you little to no room for a social life. You weren’t an outcast, but you definitely weren’t popular. People usually didn’t spare you a second glance unless they knew the lineage you came from which is why you suddenly felt small under the eyes that were staring into you.

Looking up as you took your seat in economics, you saw the familiar face of your neighbor, Jaemin, as he smiled down at you. As you settled into your seat, he slipped into the one next to you before leaning over and whispering a ‘good morning’ in your ear. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive.

Within just a week of having known Jaemin, he had already become one of your closest friends, which came as a surprise since he was also one of the most popular boys on campus. But that didn’t stop him from walking home with you after both of you were done for the day. “A princess should never be left to walk on her own.” Jaemin insisted. “Who knows what dangers could be out there, waiting to attack her?” He pondered animatedly as he linked his arm with yours as you started your journey back to your apartment complex.

It was also within a week that it took Chenle to confront you. There he stood, in front of your apartment unit as you and Jaemin stepped out of the elevator. “What did you do with her?” Chenle demanded.

“What do you mean?” You questioned, faking cluelessness as came to stand in front of him, leaving Jaemin at his own unit.

Chenle rolled his eyes. “You know damn well what I mean. Where’s mom and what did you do with her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You remarked dismissively as you unlocked your door.

“She’s living with you isn’t she?” Chenle sneered, barging into your apartment the second your door was unlocked.

“Go ahead, search all you want. You won’t find her here.” You took off your shoes inside the doorway before depositing your belongings in your room while listening to Chenle romp around in the background. Once you had finished unpacking your bag, you stepped out of your room, closing the door behind you, your brother still going on his little rampage. “Can you tone down the temper tantrum? I’m going to get a noise complaint from the-”

Your sentence was cut off as he pinned you against the wall, his hands holding you by your shoulders as your back slammed into the hard surface. “From who? Who will you get a noise complaint from?” His eyes bore into yours as his grip only tightened. “You know damn well that we own this apartment complex so a single noise complaint doesn’t mean jack shit.”

You raised your hand to slap him, his attitude was simply annoying, but he was faster. Chenle quickly had both of your wrists in one hand as he brought his face closer to yours. “Stop being such a bitch and tell me where she is.”

“You know I won’t do that.” Chenle let out a groan of frustration, his free hand running through his hair before it came straight for your throat. You yelped in shock as he started to apply pressure, slowly limiting your oxygen intake.

“If you’re not going to help me, then maybe I should just kill you. Right here, right now.”

“You would never.” You choked out.

“Oh yeah? What makes you say that?” He sneered, enjoying the pitiful state he had you in.

“I’m your fucking sister, Chenle.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me. If I let you live, you’ll only take more of what is rightfully mine. If you die, I can take over everything on my own and never have to deal with your annoying ass-”

Just as quickly as you started seeing spots in your vision, they were gone, the pressure on your throat was relieved and you keeled over, finally able to take gulps of air. You weren’t given much time to recover, the yells from your brother down the hallway pulling you out of your haze as he fought with another person on top of him. “Who the fuck are you?” Chenle exclaimed.

“Her boyfriend,” the person said, the deep voice easily recognizable, “don’t you dare hurt her ever again, or else it will be you getting killed instead.”

“You talk as if you have the power to do so.” Chenle retorted, only angering his attacker further.

They landed a square punch on his jaw before pulling a book off the shelf next to them and slamming it into his head, effectively knocking Chenle out. “Jaemin, what are you doing?” You yell, running in to stop him from doing any further damage.

“I heard him hurting you, princess. I can’t just let him get away with it.” He explained, pouting at you as if your brother was not lying unconscious under him. “I saved your life didn’t I?”

“God,-fuck, Jaemin, just get off of him.” You yanked him to his feet before attempting to pull Chenle up onto your back.

“Oh? What is my pretty girl doing now?” Jaemin asked, a sadistic smile appearing on his face.

“Getting him to a hospital because I can’t have my brother dying in my own apartment you sick fuck.”

Jaemin chuckled before responding while taking Chenle from your arms and carrying him on his own. “He won't die, he’ll just be knocked out for a bit.”

“And how would you know that?” You ask as you guide Jaemin out the front door, trying your best not to panic as you map out the way to your car and to the hospital.

“Experience.”

Jaemin’s answer should have troubled you but it was the least of your worries once you were nearly speeding on your way to the hospital, wanting to make sure Chenle was okay. You brought him into the ER drive-in and you and Jaemin watched as the staff wheeled him away on a stretcher. You stayed to answer a few questions, claiming that it was a case of self-defense out on the streets and you had come across it on your way home with your, self-proclaimed, boyfriend, before heading out once all the information was sorted.

“So, Chenle Zhong...he’s your brother?” Jaemin started as both of you were getting back into your car. You nodded as you started the engine and put on your seatbelt. “Which means...Sarah Zhong, The Sarah Zhong is your mother?” Again, you nodded as you shifted the car into gear and pulled out from the ER drop-off zone. “So he was in your apartment, about to kill you because he didn’t know where his own mother went?”

“There’s a lot more to it than that, but let’s just get home first and I’ll explain everything to you then, okay?” Jaemin let out a grunt to acknowledge you as he placed a hand on your thigh and went to check his phone. “But first, actually, what’s up with you suddenly becoming my boyfriend? First with Chenle and now at the hospital?”

“Isn’t that what I am?” Jaemin asked, his voice sickly sweet.

“You are a boy and you are my friend, but that does not make you my boyfriend, Jaemin.”

He sighed next to you. “What if I asked you right now? What if I asked, right now, ‘y/n Zhong, will you be my girlfriend’? What would your answer be?” You drove in silence, your mind going blank. “I know you find me attractive.” He interjected before letting it go silent once again. “Look, it’s not like you have any other choice or else-”

“‘Or else’ what?” You interrupted. “Tell me, why do I not have a choice here? Why are you forcing me to be your girlfriend?”

Jaemin gently squeezed your thigh upon noticing your hands were shaking on the wheel. “You pretty brother will probably press charges against me and if you don’t want your family to get exposed, the best way to do so would be following the alibi we set out for ourselves.”

Coming to a stop at a red light, you leaned forward and rested your forehead against the top of the steering wheel. “Fuck.” Jaemin was absolutely right. “Fuck” you yelled, this time startling the boy next to you.

Jaemin remained quiet as you sat hunched over before quietly mumbling “green” to let you know the light had changed colors. You drove through the intersection, feeling something in your life shift, and so began your relationship with Jaemin.

You had explained everything to Jaemin that day once you arrived back at your apartment complex, from your father’s affair up until now with Chenle having confronted you earlier in the evening. You had also broken down in tears and asked Jaemin to stay the night with you, which he gladly agreed to do, not that it would have been much trouble for him anyways since he lives next door.

A fake sense of calm consumed you in the following month. You and Jaemin entered a sort of honeymoon phase in your semi-fake relationship while your mother’s health continued to improve and Chenle made his recovery. You don’t know how he did it, but Jaemin had managed to doctor up some footage, making it look as if Chenle had been mugged just outside of the complex, and two figures, assumed to be you and Jaemin, came into view and helped him into a car nearby before driving off.

The investigators didn’t stay around much longer after that, closing the case as if it were as easy as a hit and run. You knew Chenle would be furious with you and you lived every day in fear of him turning up unannounced, ready to take your life again. Being with Jaemin made you feel safe, oddly enough, even with all the red flags he had thrown your way. From knocking Chenle out to the fixed footage and even the way he had the proper cleaning supplies to wipe any evidence of Chenle having been in your apartment.

Jaemin showed you love more intensely than any of your past relationships that sometimes you had to remind yourself why you were doing this. The way he kissed you was absolutely enrapturing, the way he caressed every part of you so gently sent butterflies through your body. He had even made love to you a few times, all while confessing his adoration for you. He held your hand and let you wear his clothing, acting as a model boyfriend that any girl would wish to have.

Being with Jaemin wasn’t all that great though. He teased you, sometimes even publicly embarrassed you, though he chalked it up to being his way of showing his affection. Today was the worst of all. You had stayed up trying to finish a paper for econ, but you just couldn’t get the words to flow and ended up bullshitting nearly all of it. Jaemin had known all of this, yet he volunteered your essay to share during class when your professor had asked for any names. “Ah yes, Ms. Zhong, it would be a pleasure to hear your writing.” He said as he stepped down from the podium.

“Jaemin, I fucking swear to god-” You whispered through a fake smile.

“It’s okay princess, you got this. You’re smart, I know you are.” He encouraged through a genuine smile though the intentions behind it were less so.

As you stood up on the podium, you cleared your throat while holding your sad excuse for a research paper. “I wrote my essay on the stock market and investments, and how we shouldn’t buy into such things as all these numbers are digital and cannot be withdrawn into physical money.”

“With all due respect, Ms. Zhong, your paper sounds absolutely wonderful but the topic of this research paper was on how politics affect economies worldwide.” Your professor informed you.

You paused, feeling hot chills pass over you. “Uh, yes, that’s what my essay is on. I just meant that I had chosen to write about it from a more fundamental scale.”

“Oh, yes, of course!” Your professor exclaimed, clasping his hands together. “Please, do continue in that case, I’m terribly sorry for interrupting.”

“So, like I was saying,” you began again, glancing over at Jaemin, only for him to shoot you a smile, “we should not buy into the stock market since it is all digital and wealth is not promised.” Your presentation went on like this for the next few minutes, occasionally looking at Jaemin whenever you wanted to finish and step off the podium, but his gaze changed immediately whenever you took a step towards the edge and it forced you to stay up there, talking around in circles, confusing yourself. “This is why prices are so inflated with what our past presidents have done in the economy-”

“Thank you, Ms. Zhong. I do believe it is time we moved on to the next paper.” Your professor advised, much to your relief as he gave you a look of pity and condolence while allowing you to step down before he resumed his position at the front of the class.

You were on the edge of tears as you sat back down next to Jaemin and you swatted his hand away from you when he tried to wrap an arm around you as if to comfort you. You felt your phone vibrating in your bag as Jaemin texted you but you didn’t even bother checking it, choosing to zone out while staring at the white walls of the lecture hall instead.

After your professor excused the class for the day, you made a beeline for the apartments, not even caring that you still had one more class. Jaemin called out for you and ran after you but you thanked whatever divine being above that blessed you by letting Jeno, his best friend, pull him off to their shared biology class.

Had you been a little more attentive, maybe you would’ve noticed the near carbon copy of your car parked at the end of the garage as you pulled out. But you didn’t, only seeking your mother’s comfort as you drove off to the care home since it had indeed been a week since you had last visited and you promised that you would come at least once a week.

When you arrived at the care home and passed through the main lobby, greeting the staff working as you were a familiar face among them, one of them stopped you. “Ms. Zhong! Sorry to stop you, but a person by the name of Chenle Zhong came by to pick up your mother. We didn’t know if this was something you had arranged or not but he had all the credentials and your mother seemed to recognize him enough so we let her go.”

You froze in absolute shock and panic. “What do you mean you let her go? You left her with some stranger that you don’t even know?”

“We’re truly sorry, but he did have all the paperwork to prove his relation to you and your mother so there was nothing we could do.” The worker said, speaking quickly in hopes of ceasing your anger.

You took a couple of deep breaths before looking around, noticing all the eyes on you. “How much did he pay?” Silence. “I said, how much did he pay?” You yelled.

“$150,000.” The woman behind the front desk spoke up. You knew it, you fucking knew it would happen but now there was nothing left to do except wait for Chenle to show up.

You don’t know what came over you but something compelled you to enter Jaemin’s apartment instead of yours once you returned to the apartments so you went along with it, dropping your bag at the foot of his bed before lying down and falling asleep as you waited for him to finish at school.

Your sleep was a black dreamless sleep and you woke with a jolt, your heart pounding, not knowing what time it was nor why you woke up in this state. You looked out of the window, noting that it was now dark out, meaning that you had probably slept for at least an hour or two, which answered your first immediate question. The answer to the second came when you finally registered the yelling coming from next door. Next door...your apartment.

Scrambling out of Jaemin’s bed, you didn’t even bother putting on your shoes, bursting in through your front door and running down the main hallway towards the living room, the source of all the noise, to find a bloodied Jaemin on top of an equally, if not more, bloodied Chenle, the weapon in question lying a few feet away from them, the warm red liquid slowly dripping from the blade of the kitchen knife onto your beige carpet. “Jaemin, what the fuck are you doing?!” Both boys paused at the sound of your voice.

“Oh, my sweet girl, I had come home to wait for you after you had run away but instead he came to me. I knew all about how he had bought you mother so I figured, why not give him injuries that will cost another $150,000?” His face smiling at you with the bloodied fingerprints plastered on his pale skin was a sight you knew you’d never forget.

You slowly stepped towards them, your brain working at speeds beyond your comprehension. “Jaemin, how did you know about my mother? I had only just come from there so unless Chenle told you...” you paused to look over at your brother, who shook his head before coughing up some blood, spitting some in a glob at Jaemin.

Jaemin cooed at Chenle as he wiped the blood off his face before running that same hand through Chenle’s hair, locking his fingers into it and yanking Chenle’s head back at a painful angle. Chenle yelled out in pain, his cries muffled when Jaemin pulled a blanket off your couch and stuffed it into Chenle’s mouth. “You see, princess, I had their security circuit pulled even before you told me about your family’s misfortune.”

“Wha- but how...why?...” You struggled to grasp at all the information being connected in your head.

“Your cheating father had an affair with not only your mother and mine as well.” He looked between you and Chenle, enjoying the shock that was mirrored in both of your expressions. “That’s right, my mother is the mistress who stole away your father. However, he is the man who broke apart my family too when she ran away with him, leaving me with my abusive asshole of a dad.”

You continued moving closer and kneeled down once you were in front of Jaemin, bringing yourself to eye level with him, even if the smell of blood was making you feel like passing out. “I figured that by killing one of you, I could force you stupid Zhongs to get back together and bring my mother back to me. But I couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger, not when I’ve fallen so madly in love with you...which leaves me with him.”

Jaemin lunged for the knife next to you only to find that you picked it up much faster than he did. You stood up and backed away from them with the knife as Chenle attempted to shove Jaemin off of him, but Jaemin was stronger though not by much. “Princess, please do both of us a favor. He tried to kill you and he’s shown how little you mean to him. Do you really think he’d share everything equally with you?” Your eyes darted between both of theirs. “Don’t you wish for my happiness? After all the love I’ve given to you?”

Your gaze locked with Chenle’s who was shaking due to the overexertion of his body. “Does the pretty boy have something to say?” Jaemin cooed as he pulled the blanket out of Chenle’s mouth.

“It’s me or him, y/n. Me or him.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Jaemin said before pouncing back on Chenle, both his hands wrapping around Chenle’s pale neck.

You threw the knife, hoping for it to reach its target. It did, and you watched as his body stilled and went limp right in front of your eyes, the blade pierced through his heart. It was honestly a lucky throw but regardless, the blood on the knife was because of you.

You are the killer now.

#NCT-writers #neohalloween #neowritingsnet #dreamwritersnet #kwritersworldnet #unfortunatus: inferno #neowriters #nct #NCT 2020 #NCT dream #jaemin #NCT imagines #NCT scenarios #NCT fanfic #NCT horror #NCT dream imagines #NCT dream scenarios #NCT dream fanfic #NCT dream horror #na jaemin #NCT jaemin #NCT na jaemin #NCT dream jaemin #NCT angst #nct dream angst #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fanfic #jaemin angst #jaemin imagines #jaemin drabble

[ssa-lesbian]

this is how i will love you, even as the world goes on its wicked way (1/1)

word count: 2.97k

The fever comes two days after landing in Paris.

-> read on AO3

(content / trigger warning: fever, vomiting, curse words, implied suicide ideation.)

—

Emily Prentiss does not get sick. She feels her throat close up and drinks some hot water before driving in for work. Her nose is clogged and she barks out a laugh at Morgan’s pathetic joke and pokes Reid in the side when he stammers at the innuendo. There’s a pounding in her temples and she closes her eyes for a moment before standing at the precinct and telling officers their unsub is a sociopath and they needed to be aware of those whose smiles were too wide and eyes too charming.

JJ asks her if she’s okay after flinching at the bright sunlight, and Emily flashes her her signature smirk, and even though JJ’s eyes are still filled with concern, she drops it, and they continue their stroll through the Musee d’Orsay because she knows JJ loves old paintings and the Louvre is too busy and crowded for one last walk with someone she must forget. And even if the Metro ride there is loud and shaky and fluorescent lights blinding, her head spinning is worth the way JJ’s eyes glitter in dim light, hand still clasped tightly in Emily’s as she gazes at the massive wall-size paintings.

On the fourth day, Emily collapses.

She tries to make a joke out of it, but her throat has closed up and she’s breathing hot air and this bedroom floor is as grimy as a dog’s ass (dog’s ass?), and the only sound she can make is an undignified grunt.

“Oh my God— oh my God, Em.”

There’s something wet sliding down her face. Is she crying? Or is that sweat? She can’t feel anything and her eyes are burning. She lets out a groan.

Someone takes her shoulder and rolls her over, and Emily’s head lolls to the side, the only thing keeping her up the strong, calloused hands of JJ, her pretty face blurring in and out of Emily’s vision. Her other hand brushes against her forehead.

“Em, you’re burning up,” she hears, and in one smooth move, JJ picks her up and back into bed.

“Unh,” Emily says.

“I know, I know,” is the reply, and JJ rearranges the sheets so that only the thin bedsheet is covering her instead of the thick duvet she sleeps in. “Let me get you a cloth, you’re gonna be just fine.”

“Unh,” Emily protests, because her skin is burning up and she’s blinking back hot tears and her head hurts so much and the only thing that would make it all better would be to see JJ and her soft, pink lips.

It feels like a lifetime when JJ returns, which is impossible because the bathroom is right next to Emily’s bedroom (in her old apartment it was down the hall, and Emily considered it a major design flaw but not one worth buying another home for), but JJ returns, and she comes back with her honey-voiced murmurs and a cool cloth laid across her forehead.

“You’ll be fine, Emily,” she says. “You’re so strong.”

Emily doesn’t tell her that the cloth has long dried up because if she does, JJ will leave her again.

The day passes by with Emily floating in and out of consciousness, head pounding every time she opens her eyes, and the only things she can recall are JJ’s hushed murmurs as she talks about getting better and being okay and the way JJ’s thumb traces gentle circles over her knuckles, fingers still intertwined, curled up in the armchair on Emily’s bedside. JJ orders takeout with what little French she retained from her high school years, exhaling sharply every time she pronounces an unnecessary consonant, and when the doorbell rings and JJ stands to answer, Emily grabs her hand.

“Unh,” she says with as much emotion as possible, and JJ’s eyebrows knit together.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” she says, and she squeezes Emily’s hand, but she doesn’t let go.

You only came back after I died, Emily tries to say.

“Unh,” comes out.

In the end, Emily is too tired to hold JJ back, and as her hand falls limply to the bed and she watches JJ slip out her bedroom, she curses her body for betraying her.

French Chinese takeout is similar to American Chinese takeout, Emily notes: oily, savory, and mouth-watering. JJ doesn’t let her eat the stir-fry (apparently it’s bad for her stomach) and passes her small amounts of fluffy jasmine rice and wet bak-choy, but Emily can only barely hold down the pitiful foods JJ passes her.

JJ gets Emily a pitcher (an entire pitcher) of water on her nightstand for the night and promises that she’ll be there if Emily needs anything and Emily just needs to yell, and Emily lets out a thankful grunt. Closing her eyes, Emily drifts off to the blood roaring in her head, mouth hanging open slightly to breathe properly. 

Emily wakes up to a burning sensation on her chest and in her stomach and in her eyes, and fuck it, she is the burning sensation, and she tries to call for JJ.

“Jayje,” she says, words slurring, and even though she tried to say “JJ”, it works for now.

The way JJ appears in her door frame is like some God-given miracle, and even through her blurred vision, Emily can never forget those blue eyes.

“Em, what’s wrong?”

She crosses the room in quick strides and leans over Emily, and when her gold curls fall over Emily’s face and her nightshirt hangs lower than any work attire would require, her heart skips a beat.

“God, you’re burning,” JJ says, and if Emily weren’t so delirious, she would say JJ sounds almost worried, but JJ is never worried, pretty, perfect, media liaison JJ is never worried, the way she holds her chin up and the way her eyes always meet the other person’s.

“Don’t leave me,” Emily says, and JJ’s hand cups Emily’s cheek, shaking slightly from the heat radiating off of her.

“I need to get you some water,” comes as a whisper, and she disappears despite Emily’s groan.

When she comes back, the bedsheets are spread haphazardly around the bed from Emily’s weak attempts at kicking them off, and balancing the small tub of water and towels on her right hand and hip, JJ plucks off the bedsheets with ease, and Emily relaxes as JJ settles into her seat.

"You’re going to be fine, Em,” she says, draping another towel over Emily’s forehead before wetting another one. “We just need the fever to break.”

"I haven’t felt this hot since I got stabbed,” Emily says, and she lets out a croaking laugh at her own joke.

There’s a flickering smile on JJ’s face, and Emily continues.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve been dead before, remember? This fever ain’t shit.”

JJ replaces the cloth on Emily’s forehead and stays quiet.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Your voice is so pretty. I could listen to it all day.”

“You’re gonna have to listen to me for the next few days, Em,” is the murmured reply, but everything is too hot now.

"My stomach hurts. Jayje, Jayje, my stomach–”

There’s a burning sensation as the chair leg pieces her, and she screams.

“Jayje, Jayje— it hurts, it hurts, I’m sorry—”

And Emily can’t do anything except cry when JJ unbuttons her nightshirt and places a wet cloth on her stomach, chest heaving as she gasps for breath.

"Jayje, it burns, please, I can’t—”

 “You’ll be okay, Em, it’ll be okay,” JJ says, draping another cloth over her chest and taking off Emily’s nightshirt. “It’ll be okay, everything will be okay.”

But still her stomach and chest burn, and maybe in a different world Emily would be ashamed of herself, with how pathetic and weak she is, crying and sobbing and begging, in front of JJ, of all people.

But if it means JJ’s hands will trace over her bare chest and her hair will tickle Emily’s cheek, she will take it.

—

 It doesn’t get better.

The fifth day Emily spends throwing up, except she’s too weak to get out of bed and so JJ brings a trash can to Emily’s bedside so at her convenience, she can simply roll around and spit up whatever the fuck is still in her stomach.

And her head still fucking hurts. JJ touches her hand, and Emily recoils.

“Leave me alone,” she spits, and her mouth feels like sandpaper. “Leave me alone.”

“Em—”

“Leave me alone!” she shouts, except she doubles over and retches into the trash can, dry-heaving at this point because all of last night’s vegetables and rice are gone and Emily’s going to rip out her entire digestive tract.

And also because this is pathetic. Former CIA and Interpol spy, BAU profiler, lying half naked in a bed in Paris, supposedly dead, drenched in sweat and her own spit, recently branded and staked, succumbing to a fever. A fever. If Emily had it her way, she would rather hurl herself out the window than to have JJ see her like this.

JJ retreats to the corner of the bedroom and blinks back tears. Emily is too busy coughing into the trash can to notice.

—

“Why can’t you give me any pills?”

It comes as a croak, and wordlessly, JJ pours Emily another cup of water and passes it to her. She takes it shakily and sips, knowing that inevitably, it will come back up and into the bin. JJ is silent watching Emily, curled up in her armchair, and her eyes are unreadable.

“When Doyle stabbed you,” she says quietly, “he ripped part of your stomach.”

“He ripped more than my stomach,” Emily comments drily, and JJ’s eyes flash with something Emily cannot quite understand.

“They stitched it back up, but the doctor said something about how you shouldn’t take any Tylenol and similar medicine until it completely healed.”

“Why Tylenol?”

“Because— because—” JJ huffs. “I don’t know, I’m not a chemist. I guess it’s something to do with how it affects stomach lining.”

“I bet Reid would know,” Emily says, and there’s a pang in her heart as she imagines the young doctor. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Almost instinctively, JJ’s hand reaches out, but just before touching Emily’s, she freezes. Emily frowns, blinks.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

JJ brings her hand back.

“You wanted me to leave you alone.”

“I did?”

A pause, and Emily’s heart twists at the look on JJ’s face.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” is JJ’s immediate response. “You were sick.”

This time, Emily reaches out for her, and JJ takes her hand immediately, fingers interlacing and squeezing tightly. JJ’s eyes glitter in the dim moonlight, and Emily wonders how much longer she has with her.

“When are you going home?” she asks her.

JJ is wearing Emily’s old Yale sweatshirt, she realizes. A muted, old navy color, the letters flaking off, and her hair looks disheveled, as though she hadn’t brushed it in days. There are bags under her bright eyes, not unlike the bags she had when she first had Henry and still insisted on coming in for work, and Emily feels a pang of guilt.

“I’m sorry, Jayje,” she says.

“It’s not your fault,” JJ says quietly. “Let me get you some water.”

—

 Emily begins burning up again that night. All the water JJ coaxed into her earlier comes back up, and JJ still tirelessly drapes wet towels over her and removes the dry ones.

“I’m going to die,” Emily groans.

“You’ll be fine,” JJ repeats, squeezing a wet cloth down Emily’s face. The droplets stop the pain momentarily, but once they touch her skin, they evaporate immediately, temporary relief gone. “You’ll be fine.”

“I love you,” Emily says. “I never got to tell you that. My eyes hurt.”

“Close your eyes, Em.” JJ keeps trailing water down her face.

“I want to see you. Every time I see your eyes, I know it’s going to be okay. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Em. Close your eyes.”

“It’s really hot. Jayje, it hurts.”

JJ replaces the towel on her stomach, and she flinches at the sudden cold.

“Jayje, it hurts.”

“I know, baby, I know.”

“I like it when you call me baby,” Emily says, eyes hot and vision blurry, and she can’t see the way JJ stiffens and squeezes her eyes shut.

“Go to sleep, Em. It’ll be okay.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t.”

The last thing Emily registers is a singular wet drop on her face, just above her eye, and bleakly, she wonders why that one droplet was more hot than cold.

—

Emily’s hand is cold.

“Jayje?”

But it comes out as a grunt because her throat has closed back up and the pounding has returned, and she lets out another grunt as her hand flexes. Something takes hold of her and squeezes, and Emily grunts.

“Unh,” she says. I need you. I need to feel you. I love you.  

“I’m here, baby.”

The cloth on her head is replaced, but the burning persists. She’s stopped sweating now, thankfully, it’s just her head.

“Unh,” Emily says.

“I know, baby, I know.”

JJ used to smell like vanilla. Emily’s nose is clogged up right now, but she’ll bet ten thousand staked stomachs that she still smells like vanilla, with just a hint of cinnamon. She remembers asking JJ about it once; her shampoo was vanilla, she said, but she can’t imagine where the cinnamon came from.

“Unh,” Emily repeats, and she tugs on her hand.

“It’ll be okay, baby, I’m right here,” she hears, and Emily tugs her hand harder.

“Unh,” she emphasizes, and she brings their hands to the bed.

A pause. Emily’s vision is blurred and spotty, but she imagines the way JJ’s eyebrows scrunch together when thinking.

“You want me in bed with you?”

“Unh,” Emily confirms, and she squeezes her hand again.

A rustling of clothes, and JJ squeezes her hand gently before dropping, and Emily notes the soft footsteps as JJ pads around to the other side of the bed (JJ has the lightest footsteps, Emily’s tried making hers softer but she can’t manage it). The bed creaks as JJ settles in, and suddenly there’s an arm wrapping around Emily’s waist.

“Come here, baby,” JJ murmurs, and Emily curls into her warm body immediately, burying herself into the old sweatshirt and her soft curls. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

The pulsing in her head ebbs away as JJ’s nimble fingers thread through her tangled hair, and Emily drifts off to an uneasy sleep.

—

It’s a choked sob that pulls Emily halfway out of sleep, eyes flying open and trying to pinpoint the cause of the noise through her blurred vision. Another sob, and it’s coming from behind her.

“I’m so sorry. This isn’t how it was supposed to turn out.”

The voice breaks off at the end, and blearily, Emily wonders who it is.

“I love you so, so much, I don’t think you’ll ever know how much I love you.”

Everything is so heavy. The words float in and out of Emily’s head, and there’s a ringing in her ears. She makes out a shaky inhale before something; Emily has to strain to make out the words.

“I thought— I thought we could do it, I thought we could— but then Will came and Henry and— and I didn’t— Em, I’m so sorry.”

A choked sob, and Emily feels tears drip onto her neck.

“You don’t deserve this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Emily tries to say something, say anything, but all that comes out is a grunt and a jerk of her body, and the arms around her tighten, kisses pressed into her hair over and over as circles are rubbed onto Emily’s skin.

“Sh, sh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

Another kiss pressed into the crown of Emily’s head, except this one seems desperate and raw and she can feel someone linger there for a moment longer before burying their face in the nape of Emily’s neck.

“It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. God, I’m so sorry.”

—

When Emily opens her eyes, she’s greeted with JJ perched on the armchair next to her bed and diligently studying a magazine, and she can smell coffee-

She can smell coffee.

“I can smell,” Emily says abruptly, and to her delight, she can      speak    .

JJ’s head jerks up, and her lips curl up in her signature soft smile, eyes twinkling. “You’re awake.”

“Yup,” Emily answers, and tentatively, she swings her legs out of bed, a grin forming on her face as her feet plant on the carpeted ground easily. “And better.”

“Oh, thank God,” JJ says, and when Emily glances up, she’s met with a looser smile, more tired. “I thought—”

With her recovered vision, Emily can now make out the dark circles under her eyes, and she flinches. Her body still aches, but that must be nothing compared to what hell she put JJ through, and JJ, of all people—

“I’m sorry,” Emily says. “Was I that bad?”

A pause, and JJ’s smile drops and her eyebrows furrow together. Emily stills, insides twisting because did I miss something?  

“You don’t remember?” JJ asks quietly.

“Uh, I— I don’t think so. It’s all very hot. And blurry.”

Emily is a profiler, she is a seasoned profiler who has worked in the elite department of the BAU for several years, but she can only make out the way JJ’s eyes widen slightly and the way her mouth drops for a moment before they’re instantly masked, covered by a smile that seems almost relieved.

“Jayje?”

“Don’t worry about it,” JJ says, reaching out to take Emily’s hand. “Nothing happened worth remembering.”

#yes #i had most of this done about a month back #and only finished it today #not sure how i feel about it #but whatever #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #jemily #jj #jennifer jareau #jennifer jj jareau #emily prentiss #jj x emily #emily x jj #my art #angst #tw vomit #tw fever #tw cursing #cw suicide ideation #criminal minds sickfic

[helliontherapscallion]

omg pls share the story abt the lecture from that girl’s dad (only if u feel like it) but seriously ppl it’s not that hard to put a mask on to help the spread of a virus. just wear it, it keeps u safe. and for the ppl who don’t care then just wait til it affects u, bcs covid isn’t a game. I just wish ppl were more serious abt it

Ok so sit down and buckle up kiddos and grab some snacks bc this is a helluva ride

Little background info: I have been a section leader for both my junior and senior years now. When the new freshmen came in my first year of being section leader I was hyped as hell. And then this new freshman whips out a lighter and lights it WHILE WE’RE INSIDE THE SCHOOL MIGHT I ADD with a straight face looking off into the distance before we ask her to put it away. She also always has a pocket knife on her that we found on the ground during band camp. I’ll call her POS. 

I tried to like POS I really did, but then she turned out to be a bigoted racist asshole (she also drinks deer blood straight from the corpse and simps over jeffery dahmer so even more red flags). It was extremely hard for me to treat her like I did with the other people in my section, but I managed to treat her the same as the other people and avoided her for the most part (thank god she wasn’t in my subsection I would’ve actually gone insane)

Flash forward to this year. Covid was hitting full force and we had to quarantine for the first two months of our season setting us back by a lot. She was wishywashy about rejoining but as the most senior leader of my section my band director was on my ass about getting a straight answer from her and fast. So I kinda had to force her to give me an answer (which she told me she was doing it quickly which leads me to think she already knew she was doing it) so she already was going into the season hating my guts

When we finally had an in person rehearsal for the first time, she wasn’t wearing a mask so when I asked her where it was she looked at me like I was the dumbass and said in a matter-of-fact tone “it’s in my pocket” and pointed to the confederate flag bandana hanging out of her pocket. Those four words told me that this season was going to be a fuckin long one with her. I just deadpanned (she couldn’t see it tho bc mask, sunglasses, and floppy hat blocking my entire face) and said “I’d rather it be on your face. (band director and marching instructor’s names) will have my ass if they see you not wearing one.” She rolls her eyes and puts it on (at least it was over her nose)

A few months go by with me telling her constantly to put on a mask bc I am responsible for my section and I’d be damned if one of them got sick bc of one idiot being stupid that I could prevent. She is getting madder and madder with each passing rehearsal. 

Band camp rolls around and it changed from 5 13 hour days to 15 3 hour ones and I am already done with her bs. We get our dots and I mentally groan bc she’s next to me for the vast majority of the show. She is between me (an asthmatic) and my close friend (vvv immunocompromised and also hates her, I’ll call her S) so now I’m more worried about covid going around the section. It was in this time that I find out that at least 5 other people out of 20 also have pre existing conditions that make them susceptible. So now I make it even more my mission to make her wear a mask. 

It was in the middle of band camp when she is yet again not wearing a mask (we were just marching without instruments) and I turn to her and as kindly as possible (it was the second time that day) asked her to put on her mask. She once again rolls her eyes and says “ya know, (band director) walked past me 3 times and hasn’t said shit, so I think I’m gonna listen to him and not you.” S and another friend of mine looks over in shock cuz she just talked back to me. They were about to say something but I wove them off. POS wants to fuck with me? Fine. I’ll just go full force with this. She wants petty?? I’ll give her petty, I’ve been holding off all season. 

So I’m marching there for the next twenty minutes quietly seething and counting more aggressively. She’s getting annoyed, but I pull the section leader card and tell her that she needs to be counting as loud as I am bc her feet was lowkey off time. After we break off for a gush and go (very short water break), I go straight to my band director and use my limited water break to tell him what she told me. He apologizes and says that he thought she was just taking a breather. He tells her to put on a mask and she does so and glares at me the rest of the rehearsal. 

She blocks me on all social media and I obviously clown on her in private with the other section leader (he’s more of a pacifist and never really told her to wear a mask which kinda pissed me off but I understood) until she makes a passing comment to my other friend about using the knife she kept in her boot. Now he tells me cuz he’s a good friend and I’m shitting myself at that point bc holy shit I might get shanked. 

I think about telling the band director but I realize that there’s no proof of her saying this and she could easily get out of this so it’s kinda pointless to tell anyone. Plus if she did shank me, she’d get into so much trouble and I’d be laughing at her from my grave/hospital bed. 

Many rehearsals go by and she still refuses to wear a mask so after one rehearsal S and I went to the band director and reminded him about our conditions and told him about how we were worried for our safety (I also told him abotu the other vulunerable ppl in the section) and he says he’s gonna do something. Next rehearsal he gives POS a warning and she begrudgingly wears a mask for the rest of the rehearsal. The next rehearsal rolls by and she isn’t wearing a mask (again) and he sends her home. Major victory for S and I.

The next sectional tho was something I wasn’t expecting. I get there like 10 minutes before it starts like I usually do in a good mood. I get out of my car and go to grab my stuff when a massive white truck with a busted muffler pulls up into the parking space next to me with a cloud of black smoke. The window rolls down and reveals POS’s dad and POS herself in the passanger seat. 

Of course I’m thinking that this is the day I die and start mentally preparing to yell for help to my other section members 100 feet away on the field already.

Mans starts to lecture me saying things like “it’s unhealthy to wear a mask outside bc it’s like a pitri dish under there. 6th grade science!” (I am not joking or overexaggerating with this, he actually said that). I really wanted to say “well, 7th grade science says otherwise, but you wouldn’t know that bc I’m sure you didn’t pass 6th grade, but go off ig” but I didn’t bc I didn’t want to get shanked or disappear randomly. I just tell him that I am only doing what my band director told me to do and that there are tons of people (myself included) that can really get hurt from just being in contact with covid. He says that’s bullshit and tries to tell me that I’m an idiot before I cut him off by telling him once again that I am just trying to protect my section and that the sectional was going to start soon so I didn’t have the time for this. I walk away leaving him trying to keep talking to me and soon enough POS gets out of the car and follows me to the field giving me a smug smile on her unmasked face before she puts it on when she sees the other section leader stroll up. 

Lemme paint the picture for you: this guy (a 6′something burly guy in his 50′s that I know has like two felonies under his belt) pulls up next to me (a 5′2 17 year old ball of anxiety that drives a small yellow car) and starts to borderline yell at me. Traumatizing. I was shaking for the rest of the sectional and I spent the rest of the season looking over my shoulder looking for the glint of a knife swingin at me

Now I’m pretty sure she’s suspended bc she was caught with a knife on school property and she wore a confederate t-shirt to school, but I would be lying if I said I don’t still look over my shoulder or speed up when I drive past her house lmao

#hellion responds #i have so many other stories from marching band that i think yall would like #just ask and i'll supply : )

[jensengirl83]

Unexpected Situation

Dean x reader

Word count-4105

Warnings- Angst, unplanned pregnancy, fluff

Summary-The reader has been sick, thinking it was just a virus, Her and Dean get a shock to the actual cause.

The sunlight streaming through the curtains, bright and offending, is letting me know it’s time to get up. I groan wanting to just stay in bed all day, but we are heading back to the bunker today. This hunt has been absolute hell, just a simple witch hunt, turning into a four-day fiasco. On top of that, I am not feeling well, this stupid stomach virus is kicking my ass. Dean, being an overprotective ass, tried to make me stay in the hotel the whole trip. Thank Chuck I did not listen, or they would still be hunting that damn witch. I want to go home to the bunker, in my own bed, my own shower. I stretch my aching muscles, normally not this tired and groggy, on my way to make our coffee. That is one thing Dean and I have in common, our love for coffee.

“Morning sweetheart, feeling any better?” Dean leans down to kiss my temple, rubbing circles on the small of my back. Not many people get to see this side of Dean. To the hunter world, he is Dean Winchester, one of the best, a hard ass no one wants to cross. At home though, he is so sweet, caring, gentle, my big teddy bear.

“Morning babe. I’m feeling a little better, still not back to myself.” I lay my head back on his chest, his arms circling my waist. We stand there in silence waiting on the coffee to finish brewing, enjoying our quiet peaceful moment before Sam gets back from his morning run. Dean moves to get his cup and fill it up, turning to fill mine as well.

“I hope you feel better soon baby. I don’t like when you are sick, there’s really nothing I can do.”

“I know you do Dean. You know it’s not your job to take care of everyone all the time, right?” He rolls his eyes at me and I can’t help but giggle. He smiles down at me, his big bright smile, the one that reaches his eyes, the smile that lets me know he is genuinely happy.

“I’ll always take care of my girl.” He leans in to place a kiss to my lips, soft and sweet, beginning to grow in intensity. He licks my bottom lip asking for entrance, our tongues moving slowly together. I can taste the coffee he has been drinking, the taste instantly making my stomach turn. I break the kiss and run for the hotel bathroom, dropping to my knees to empty what little contents I have in my stomach.

“Oh sweetheart….” Dean is behind me in an instant, sweeping my hair out of my face, placing a cold washcloth on my neck. I haven’t been this sick in years, the muscles in my abdomen twitching from all the dry heaving.

“Want me to call Sammy and have him pick you up some medicine?” Dean says as he is running more cold water on the washcloth. I nod my head, afraid if I open my mouth to speak, I will be sick again. I lay my head on the toilet seat, too weak to even care. Dean is back with the cloth patting it on my face and neck, being very gentle as to not jostle me, in hopes I don’t throw up again.

“You think you’re done for now and can make it back to the bed?” I sigh laying there for a moment longer, praying this sick spell is finally over.

“I think I’m ok now Dean, help me up?” I just want to lie down. I honestly believe this virus is going to be the death of me.

“Of course, darling.” He puts his hand under my arms to steady me as I stand, my legs weak and shaky. Once I am on my feet, he swoops his arm under my legs, picking me up to carry me to the bed.

“I can walk Dean. I’m sick, my legs aren’t broken.” Another Dean eye roll.

“How about you be quiet and let me take care of you please?” I’m to weak to argue, letting him continue carrying me towards the bed. He lays me down gently, sitting beside me, running his hand over my head. I am almost asleep again when the hotel door swings open.

“Damn short stack, you look awful.” Nice choice of words Sam.

“You sure know how to make a girl feel good Sam.” I say with a roll of my eyes.

“I didn’t mean it like that Y/n. You look like you feel horrible.” The blush on Sam’s face makes me smile.

“I know you didn’t Gigantor, throwing up your spleen has a way of making you look pretty rough though.” Both boys curling their noses up in disgust like they were picturing me actually throwing up my spleen.

“Nice visual sweetheart, a little dramatic wouldn’t you say?” Dean chuckles leaning down to place his lips on my forehead.

“I don’t have a fever Winchester.” I know what he is doing, the worry wart.

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t checking you for a fever.”

“Whatever you say Dean.” I close my eyes again hoping to just rest for a minute, the nausea finally easing. I have never been this tired in my life, this virus must be a doozy, I think to myself as I drift off to sleep.

I open my eyes just a little as I roll to get more comfortable. I don’t remember the hotel bed being this comfy, the thought making me open my eyes a little wider. I look around to see I am back in our bed in the bunker.

“Hello there sleeping beauty.” I turn my head to see Dean lying beside me, arms under his head like he has been there awhile watching me.

“How long have I been asleep?” I say with a yawn as I sit up, arms over my head stretching my aching muscles.

“A little over 8 hours. I was starting to worry you weren’t going to wake back up.” The look of worry written all over that handsome face. I must admit, I am starting to worry myself. I am not one to sleep like this. “If this doesn’t go away soon please go see a doctor sweetheart.”

“I will Dean, I promise.” I lean to press a kiss to his forehead, feeling bad for making him worry so much.

“Jody called, she needs me and Sam to help on a case.” I know he doesn’t want to go, but he can’t neglect Jody just because I don’t feel well.

“Go help Jody Dean. I’m just going to take it easy and hydrate myself, nothing you can really do for me.”

“You sure? I don’t like being away from you when you might need me.” I intertwine my fingers with his, bringing them up to kiss the top of his hand.

“I’m sure babe.” I put on the biggest smile I can muster, hoping he will buy it and not be too distracted helping Jody.

“We will be back tomorrow evening baby, promise.” Dean grabs the back of my neck pulling me down to place a sweet but passionate kiss to my lips “You call me if you need anything. I mean it Y/n.”

“I promise, now get out of here.” I laugh while pushing him out of the bed. He finally stands and grabs his duffle, making his way to the door, turning to look at me once more. I smile letting him know I will be ok, reassuring him that I understand he has to go. It works, he smiles that beautiful smile, winking at me as he closes the door. I lie back down thinking of what I can get done while they are gone. My brain still seems like it is in a fog, my stomach is doing better, but I still feel tired. My mind ponders on what could possibly be making me feel this way, nothing comes to mind as fall back into a deep sleep.

I wake up with a start, a shrill ringing filling my ears. I look to my clock to see that I have slept through the night. What the hell, this is starting to freak me out. It dawns on me that the shrill sound is my phone, grabbing to see who’s calling, Dean’s picture lighting up my screen. I answer hoping he can’t tell I just woke up.

“Hey babe, how’s it going?” I say as cheerful as I can.

“It’s good sweetheart. I was calling to let you know the hunt is over and we should be back this afternoon. How are feeling?” His voice is even, not being able to tell if he suspects anything.

“Better, my stomach is still weak but not as bad as it was.”

“Good. I love you sweetheart. We’re getting ready to hit the road.” I have a few hours to get myself together.

“I love you babe. Be safe.” We end the call and I jump out of bed. I need to get my ass in the shower and get some stuff done so he doesn’t know I have slept the whole time. I grab my clothes and make my way to the shower, turning on the water and hopping in to quickly get clean. I wash my hair, my body and shave in record time. I dry off quickly, thinking I should paint my toenails. It has been awhile, and they definitely need it. I throw on one of Dean’s shirts I stole a long time ago and my sweats, squatting down to get my nail polish from under the sink. I see the box and my heart stops, my tampons, staring me in the face. I fall back to the floor and my mind goes into overdrive, trying to remember my last period. Oh my god, it has been almost two months! I reach to the back for the pregnancy test I put back there from when we had a scare last year. I stand, ripping the test open and yanking my pants to my ankles, the urgency to know sending me into a frenzy.

I lay the test on the sink as I wash my hands, praying that it is stress causing me to skip my periods. We have been hunting nonstop for months. That is it, it has to be. Me and Dean have never really discussed kids. Our scare last year not really bringing up a conversation, so I assume it’s not what he wants. What am I going to do if I am pregnant, what will Dean think? The timer on my phone bringing me back to reality. I flip the test over but keep my eyes on the wall, wanting to know but then again not. I take a deep breath and look down to the stick in my hand, trying not to cry. Positive. I grab the edge of the sink to keep myself from falling, my knees trying to buckle beneath me. Steadying myself, I walk out to our room and lay the test on the table beside the bed, not knowing what else to do with it.

I make my way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, my mouth being dry from the realization of the impending arrival of the small human in my body. I need to go sit down, all this so overwhelming. Reaching the library, I don’t sit, I just keep moving.

I could not help but to pace around, the boys were on their way home, due back at any time. The anxiousness of the talk I need to have with Dean churning in my belly. How did we end up in this situation? This is going to be one of the scariest conversations I have ever had. I just hope Dean will take the news better than I am expecting him to. I instinctively reach down to place my hand on my stomach, my baby, our baby, the thought has my eyes brimming with tears. I never thought I would want to be a mother, now I can’t imagine our unexpected bundle not being here. I pray to whoever is listening that Dean will accept this, not panic and push us away. Raising a child in this life will not be easy, but he/she is a part of us, isn’t that worth the extra effort? I want this for Dean, I know he doesn’t believe it, but he would be such a good father. Loving and protecting, doing everything he could to make sure his child has better than he did. What if he doesn’t want this though? There is no other option for me but to have and love this baby with everything I am. If Dean will not accept it, I will have to leave, that’s not what I want, but this child is my priority now. Just the thought of having to leave has tears streaming down my face. In my onslaught of the worst-case scenarios, I didn’t hear the bunker door open.

“Honey I’m home! I love saying that.” I can hear the happiness in his voice, boy am I about to rip that away.

“You’re such an idiot Dean.” Sam is laughing as they make their way down the bunker’s staircase. I am trying to wipe the tears from my face and hope they don’t notice.

“There’s my girl! How ya feeling sweetheart?” Dean is right behind me wrapping his arms around my waist. I stay silent, afraid my emotions will be heard in my voice, not ready for this conversation. “Y/n, honey, you ok?” He turns me to face him, no need in trying to stop it. His face drops seeing me in the state I am in.

“Y/n what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Looking up to see those beautiful green eyes, so full of love and concern, has me breaking down, the thought that this may be the last time he looks at me this way, more than I can take.

“I’m so sorry Dean! I didn’t mean for it to happen, it just happened. Please baby don’t push me away. I love you. I don’t want to do this on my own.” My body is wracked with sobs, his arms the only thing holding me up.

“I need you to calm down honey. Take a deep breath, whatever it is we can fix it.” Dean is trying to be comforting but I can hear the worry in his voice.

“There is no fixing it Dean! It’s happening whether you want it to or not!” I know I’m not making sense, which is not helping at all.

“Mind giving us a minute Sammy?” I look over to Sam who has a look of confusion, but also compassion, on his face.

“Sure man, I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Sam pats Dean on the back and places a kiss to the top of my head on his way out.

“C’mere, sit down and talk to me Y/n. I can’t help you figure out what to do if you don’t talk to me.” Dean is leading me over to one of the chairs, his arms wrapped around me like he is scared I’ll run if he let’s go. “What happened baby? You were fine when I called this morning? Is this about you being sick?”

“It’s about why I have been so sick, Dean.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

“You know why you have been sick?” I just nod my head. “What is it sweetheart?” The fear in voice is breaking my heart.

“I…I’m….” I can’t say the words, my breath caught in my throat as I begin to cry again. Dean’s arms are around me pulling me into his lap.

“Please tell me Y/n. You’re scaring me.” His eyes are brimming with tears, always thinking the worst. I have to just say it, not let him keep thinking it is something really bad.

“I’m pregnant Dean.” I feel his body tense beneath me. My worst fears realized. He doesn’t want this.

“How Y/n? Aren’t you still on your birth control?” I take his question as an accusation, my frazzled mind not thinking of it any other way. I jump to my feet and turn to face him, my hands in the air.

“Of course, I’m still on my birth control Dean! Why would you think I wasn’t? You think I did this on purpose?!” I’m yelling, my fear fueling the anger I now feel. “I didn’t plan on this any more than you did Dean, but here I am, pregnant.” He just stares, a look on his face I can’t quite make out. I take that as my cue to keep going.

“I know this is not what you want Dean! I didn’t think I wanted it either, but now I do. I want this baby more than anything! If you want me to leave I will, but I am keeping it Dean. I know it will be hard raising a child in this life, but I am willing to put in the effort, quit hunting, whatever I have to do. Why aren’t we worth it to you for a little extra effort Dean? Why would you not want this with me?” I can’t keep going, the tears and the thought of doing this alone, bringing me to my knees.

“Whoa sweetheart, be careful!” Dean is in the floor pulling me to him as soon as my knees touch the ground. He is rubbing his hand down my back and peppering kisses to my hair, forehead, cheeks.

“What makes you think I want you to leave Y/n? I have never said I was against having a baby with you.” His tears finally making their way down his face. “I love you baby. I don’t want you going anywhere.”

“When we thought I was pregnant last year, and it was negative, you didn’t have anything to say. I figured you were glad it wasn’t going to happen.” I am so confused. If he wanted a baby, would he not have said so?

“I didn’t say anything because you seemed to be relieved Y/n. Of course, I want this with you. I didn’t want to say something and make you feel obligated to have a child if that isn’t what you wanted. I know it’s going to be hard, but with you by my side we can do anything.” His words are shocking me speechless. He really wants this, to be a father to our baby.

“Really Dean? You want to have this baby with me?” His smile is breathtaking, reaching his eyes, so green and bright. A look of pure joy on his face.  He cups my face in his hands and crashes his lips to mine in a bruising and passionate kiss. We pull apart, the need to breath becoming to much. He places his forehead to mine, still pecking my lips. A full body laugh erupting from his chest makes me jump back. He falls over, laying in the floor, still in a fit of laughter. Well fuck, I broke my boyfriend.

“What is so funny Dean?” I look at him like he has finally lost his mind, but not being able to keep my laugh in. He jumps to is feet, dragging me up with him.

“I’m really going to be a father. We’re going to have a baby Y/n!” His excitement is the most adorable thing I have ever see. To think, an hour ago, I thought I would be doing this on my own.

“Yes Dean, we’re having a baby.” I can’t contain my excitement anymore, laughing as he wraps his arms around me. Before I can comprehend what’s happening, he is spinning me in circles.

“Dean!” I scream, a little louder than I meant to, the surprise of being flung around the room startling me. He finally puts me back on my feet, dropping to his knees, his hands on my waist. He starts placing kisses on my belly, making me giggle.

“Hey in there, this is your Daddy. You need to give your mom a break and stop making her so sick.” I laugh, running my fingers through his hair. I look down at him with a look of awe. This big strong hunter already wrapped around his son or daughter’s finger. “I love you so much peanut. I will always be here to protect you, make sure you and your mom have everything you need, make sure you’re both happy.”

“Dean! Y/n!” Sam yells as he skids around the corner, gun drawn. Dean and I jump, never expecting Sam to run in, guns blazing.

“What the hell Sam? Put the gun down before you hurt somebody!” Dean is on his feet, putting his body between me and Sam.

“I heard Y/n yell for you! I thought something had happened.” Sam looks to the two of us, a puzzling look on his face. I can’t imagine what we looked like when he burst into the room. Dean on his knees in front of me, tears in both our eyes. It must have been a sight. The thought causes me to bust out in a fit of giggles.

“What is going on in here?” Sam is looking at me and Dean waiting on an explanation.

“Calm down Uncle Sammy. We’re good.” Dean says with a smirk, waiting to see if his brother catches on to what he just said.

“I’m glad. The situation looked dire earlier. I was….Wait! Did you just call me Uncle Sammy?!” He is whipping his back and forth between me and Dean. His eyes as big as saucers, with a look between hopeful and confused.

“He did Sam. We’re having a baby.” The proud look on Dean’s face makes my heart swell. I so hope this baby looks like him.

“Oh my God! I’m so happy for you guys!” Sam rushes to wrap both his arms around me and his brother.

“Is that why you were crying earlier short stack?” Sam asks as he releases ne from his hug, looking down at me.

“Yes. I was letting my anxiety get the best of me, thinking Dean wouldn’t want a baby, but it’s all ok now Sam.” I smile up at the giant of a man.

“Y/n, he would be an idiot to not want this. If he didn’t, I would have to kick his ass.” We both bust out laughing at the look on Dean’s face.

“Well thanks a lot Sammy.” Dean huffs faking a pout.

“Alright boys. I am exhausted and going to bed. See you in the morning Sam.” I lean up to give him a kiss on the cheek, turning to head to mine and Dean’s room.

“I still can’t believe I am going to be a dad Sammy. It is still so surreal, but I have never been so happy.” Dean is looking at me with so much love. Like I just gave him the world.

“Some of the most unexpected situations turn out to be the ones we never knew we wanted. Night guys.” Sam heads back to his room with a smile. I hold my hand out for Dean to take, wanting him to follow me to bed. He takes the invitation, intertwining his fingers with mine as we make our way to our room. I head straight for the bed, laying down and getting comfortable as Dean turns out the light, and stripping down to his boxers, climbing in behind me.

“How did I get so lucky? I have the most beautiful woman in the world, giving me the most precious gift I could ever receive. I feel like I won the lottery Y/n.” Dean whispers in my ear while placing soft kisses in my hair.

“We’re both lucky Dean. This little bean is a gift for the both of us.”

“I love you so much sweetheart.” His words soft and sweet, his hand moving to protectively lay across my belly.

“I love you Dean.” I smile as we both start to drift off to sleep. If you would have told me a month ago, I would be laying here, pregnant with Dean’s baby, both of us this happy, I would have never believed it. Here we are, the two of us getting ready to embark in one of nature’s most beautiful but scariest adventures, parenthood. Who knew that such an unexpected situation could bring so much joy? A joy that will last a lifetime.

Tags: @flamencodiva​ @waywardbeanie​ @sorenmarie87​ @foxyjwls007​ @emoryhemsworth​

#dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural family #supernatural #spn fanfiction #angst #pregnancy #fluff #reader insert #spn famdom

[slytherinliththorne]

Lith Thorne’s Profile

New Template by  @cursebreaker-lilith​​

~BASICS~

Name: Ailith Thorne Rosas.

Nicknames: Lith, Witchling.

Name Meaning: Idk man I don’t remember :b

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 16

Birthday: December 10

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Blood Status: Half-Blood

Sexuality: Biromantic asexual

Ethnicity/Nationality:  Mexican

~APPEARANCE~

Body:

Height: 1.65

Build: Slim

Eyes: Golden

Hair: White

Skin: White

Misc:  She has a rune in her chest product of her curse. A small scar in her forehead from when she was little and fell, it’s almost unnoticeable.

Material Items:

Clothing: Hogwarts uniform mostly. Lith has almost no fashion sense, so she resorts to comfy hoodies, plain shirts and jeans. She also owns a few stylish and girly clothes, but won't use them unless necessary.

Accesories: An amethyst earing in later years, a necklace with a feather of Talbott’s and a teeth of Jacob.

In their school bag: Her sketchbook, pens, pencils and chalks, a deck of cards, her wand, a woven bracelet,  her amethyst charm that becomes an earring in later years.

Reference:

Face claim: None

Voice claim: None

~PERSONALITY~

Traits:

Positive:

Lucky: For some reason, Lith has super good luck for the most trivial things, like managing to get a cauldron just before Potions class starts because she forgot hers. She assumes it must be the universe’s compensation for cursing her.

Resourceful: To any problem she encounters, from a forgotten homework to escaping death, she will always have a set of solutions already elaborated in her mind. They might not always work as she wants, but they certainly save her ass.

Intelligent: She is a nerd and an overachiever. She enjoys learning and hyperfixates on a lot of interesting subjects during the course of her life.

Neutral:

Introverted: While she can handle big groups, Lith gets stressed out quickly. She prefers being on her own or with a few friends.

Daydreamer: Lith’s head is always on the clouds, she has whole worlds inside, but never actually gets to express them, not that she minds. She also has a very vivid imagination.

Negative:

Insecure: She gains more confidence as she grows older, but she will always doubt her abilities and her own worth.

Workaholic: No matter what she does, she has to give her best. That causes many sleepless nights and some eyebags once in a while.

No emotional intelligence: When it comes to matters of the heart, she has no clue how to proceed. She finds it difficult to read the mood of a room or identify when someone is feeling down. In the same way that she has a hard time figuring out her own emotions and naming them.

Description:

Something something I’ll write it later

Other:

Likes: Solitude, art, books, muggle trinkets, sweets, winter.

Dislikes: Blood supremacy, loud places, summer, heat.

MBTI: INTP

Alignment: Neutral Good

~HOGWARTS~

Hogwarts House: Slytherin.

OWL CLASSES:

Astronomy: E

Charms: O

DADA: E

Flying: A

Herbology: A

History of Magic: O

Potions: A

Transfiguration: E

OWL ELECTIVES:

Care of Magical Creatures: A

Apparition: O

Divination: A

NEWT CLASSES:

Charms: O

Transfiguration: A

History of Magic: E

Extracurriculars:

Art

Muggle art

Best Classes:

Charms: Lith was taught charms by Jacob since he began Hogwarts when he noticed his sister had a particular proficiency with them, so when Lith arrived she was a bit ahead of her peers and continued to hone her skills on more advanced charms on her own.

History of Magic: Lith has always been a History nerd and History of Magic was a class she enjoyed and easily excelled in. Not much because of the Professor but Rowan and the study groups they would organize.

Worst Classes:

Flying: When in her human form, she is terrified of heights and hates flying.

Herbology: Lith and plants is something that is just not meant to be.

Favorite Professors:

Silvanus Kettleburn: He is eccentric, he is encouraging and he cares not about the world except for his beloved magical creatures. Lith admires his dedication and appreciates a non conventional teacher like him.

Patricia Rakepick: While Lith never fully trusted the curse breaker, she would be lying if she said that she did not enjoy Rakepick’s classes. She was probably the best professor of DADA she ever had.

Least Favorite Professors:

Severus Snape: Despite being her Head of House, Lith never liked Snape. He could mean well and she would be grateful for that but please be at a minimum distance of 6 feet apart. His attitude was the opposite of encouraging and she hated it.

Madam Hooch: She is scary :(( please don’t yell at her for not knowing how to fly she doesn’t need a broom anyway ;-;.

Affiliations/Organizations:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Slytherin House

The House of Thorne

Circle of Khanna

The Werewolf Support Squad (with Jae, Talbott, Chiara and Rowan)

The Silver Coven (with Summer Charn and Catherine Stark)

Professions:

Freelance curse breaker.

Independent Rescuer.

Part-time artist and painter.

~MAGIC~

1st Wand:

Willow wood

10

Surprisingly swishy

Unicorn hair core

“Willow is an uncommon wand wood with healing power, and I have noted that the ideal owner for a willow wand often has some (usually unwarranted) insecurity, however well they may try and hide it. While many confident customers insist on trying a willow wand (attracted by their handsome appearance and well-founded reputation for enabling advanced, non-verbal magic) my willow wands have consistently selected those of greatest potential, rather than those who feel they have little to learn. It has always been a proverb in my family that he who has furthest to travel will go fastest with willow.” (Pottermore.)

2nd Wand:

Macpalxochitl wood

113/4

Slightly Yielding

Huactli feather core

Disclaimer: this is my own lore.

Macpalxochitl, or the Devil’s Hand Tree, became a popular wood to make wands out of when the afrancesamiento of Mexico began. Old chroniclers would often refer to this tree as “worthy of any castle and palace”, so it was sought by wizards of high status. Nowadays it’s existence is very rare and only a few wandmakers are allowed to handle this tree. Wands of this wood tend to be stubborn, but they will remain loyal to their first owner. It is said that it’s better suited to healing magic, but that doesn’t mean it’s not able to turn to the Dark Arts.

The Huactli  is a strange eagle-like bird that feeds on snakes. Its peculiarity is that it’s is able to speak the language of men and predict their future. It is said that if you hear it laugh, it means good luck, but if it mutters sadly, it can translate in danger, sickness and death. Wands of this core make powerful spells, but are often unpredictable and difficult to tame. Their loyalty is easily gained and easily lost, though this may vary depending on the wood. 

Boggart 

Form: A big twisted grackle like humanoid with bright golden eyes.

Riddikulus: The grackle suddenly doing the chicken dance.

Amorentia

What they smell: Hot chocolate, books and oil painting (turpentine lmao).

What they smeel like to others: Mint, paint and parchment.

Patronus

Form: Jaguar (for Jacob), Eagle (after Talbott).

Memory: Family reunions on her Mother’s side of the family. All her cousins running around while the adults played cards.

What they see in the Mirror of Erised: Jacob and her, side by side, with the marks of their curse erased from their chests. As the years pass, more people are added into the picture behind them, like Chiara, Rowan, Talbott and Jae. After Rowan dies, their image takes Jacob’s place by Lith’s side.

~FAMILY~

Father: Daniel Thorne.Pureblood wizard.

Curly white hair (not due to the curse tho), white skin and golden eyes. Her dad is her greatest supporter, anything she wants to do he is right behind her cheering for her. He is a little bit eccentric but he loves to indulge his children's interests and spoil them. However, he is not available in the emotional department, he doesn’t know how to deal with those problems.

Mother:  Perla Rosas Villareal.

Muggle. Curly brown hair, brown skin and brown eyes. Her mom is strict but loving. Lith always seeks her for emotional support, she listens patiently and offers help only when asked. She is the one who makes her question things and they often get into arguments because of that.

Brother: Jacob Thorne Rosas

Half-blood wizard. The reason for all this mess. Curly silver hair, brown skin and golden eyes. An introverted and sweet guy, but very naive and trusting. The relationship between the Thorne siblings had always been good. Sure, they fought and argued, but they got along pretty well. After the Vaults, Lith became wary of her own brother, but when it all ended they began to reconstruct their relationship, though it will always be damaged.

Pets:

Onyx (Grackle): He is not exactly her pet, he is the other half of her soul aka her Companion.

Nox: A black cat that stayed back at home with her parents.

~FRIENDS~

Best friends:

Rowan Khanna

Chiara Lobosca

Jae Kim

Good friends:

Badeea Ali (they are art rivals but in a friendly way)

Charlie Weasley

Bill Weasley

Tulip Karasu

Friends:

Penny Haywood

Barnaby

Murphy

Andre

It’s Complicated:

Love Interests:

Talbott Winger (he is the only one I have a description for atm, the others are in another post if I remember correctly lol)

They met when Lith was trying to break her curse via the animagus potion, a thing that obviously didn’t work.

After the failure of the potion (of which Talbott is not aware), they began to notice they shared similar hiding spots, such as the Owlery, and started to acknowledge each other’s existence by simply saying hello.

Then Lith started to get closer again, asking him about the potion and being an animagus. He got suspicious and ended up discovering Chiara and Lith were trying to turn Jae into an animagus to accompany them during Chiara’s werewolf transformation.

He agreed to help them and became a member of the Werewolf Support Squad, a little bit against his will but he warmed up to them eventually.

They started to get close during those night escapades. They hung out more together (with the Squad) even after the full moons.  

Recovering Talbott’s necklace was the first time they got close one on one. It was also the moment they began to develop feelings for each other, even if they couldn’t name them yet.

They like being alone together, and started acting as a couple before they actually became one.

The moment Talbott realizes he has fallen for Lith is a morning after the full moon, when they are all in the Room of Requirement trying to get some sleep and the only thing he can look at is her.

For Lith it takes more time to realize her massive crush. It happened when Talbott fell asleep in the library while studying together. Tulip comes in and says something like “could you tell your boyfriend to wake up, Lith Thorne? We are having a House meeting soon.” Lith’s like “he is not my boyfriend tho??” and Tulip just answers “Really? Thought you were dating for months.” And leaves. That’s the moment when Lith looks at sleeping Talbott and omg he is cute and we certainly do look like a couple oh fuck.

Yet neither of them thinks the other is interested, so they continue like normal.

Until they stay behind in the Room of Requirement one time and they accidentally confess and bam guess they are a real couple now.

They graduate. Talbott gets his own place and works as an auror, Lith travels the world as a curse breaker. They meet sometimes and go on dates.

The year of Voldemort’s uprising, they have a fight and they both go their separate ways, though they never once mention breaking up.

They reunite in the Battle of Hogwarts, Talbott almost dies and they apologize to each other.

Lith moves in with Talbott after that and they marry and adopt two kittens.

Dormmates:

Merula Snyde

Ismelda Murk

Rowan Khanna

Doesn’t interact:

Merula Snyde

Ismelda Murk

Diego Caplan

Bea Haywood

Enemies:

Merula Snyde (formerly)

Patricia Rakepick

R

~STORY~

Childhood: 

Lith was born in a middle low class family in the Valley of Mexico, with a malediction in her blood. Her early childhood consisted of playing with the children in the same street and Jacob. Since insecurity was still not that high in the city, her mom would let them go out of the house on their own. They attended a public elementary school until Jacob received his letter. After that, Lith couldn’t bother with school anymore but was forced to attend. As she grew up, children started to distance themselves from her, all the neighbourhood thought it was suspicious that her brother had gone to a boarding school when they barely had the money to pay for all their expenses. It got worse when Jacob disappeared.

HOGWARTS:

1st Year: Befriends Rowan, Ben, Chiara and Penny. Makes enemies with Merula. Finds Ice Vault. The Werewolf Support Unit is formed by Chiara, Rowan and Lith.

2nd Year: Ben Cooper disappears. Befriends Bill Weasley. They enter another common room. They open the Ice Vault.

3rd Year: Befriends Tulip, Barnaby and Talbott. Tries the Animagus potion. Attempt to turn Jae into an animagus. The Werewolf Support Unit becomes the Werewolf Support Squad with new members Jae and Talbott. They open Fear Vault.

4th Year: Befriends Charlie Weasley. Patricia Rakepick arrives at Hogwarts. Sleepwalking curse. Open Forest Vault. Goes to the Celestial Ball with Rowan and on a “date” with Talbott.

5th Year: Befriends Jae Kim, Badeea Ali, Liz Tuttle and Diego Caplan. Detention in the kitchens. Beatrice Haywood is trapped in the portrait. Rakepick becomes the new DADA teacher. Lith realizes she has feelings for Talbott. They open the Portrait Vault.

6th Year: Ben goes dark. Lith and Talbott start to date. Rowan dies. Meets Ty Blackwood and finds out they are related. Circle of Khanna.

7th Year: Who tf knows?? :))

ADULTHOOD:

After graduation: Lith goes to become a cursebreaker, taking jobs others would not. She quickly gains a reputation among shady witches and wizards. She lives like this for a year, not having a stable place to stay and traveling from country to country carrying only her backpack. She grows tired of it and decides to drop it all. She goes back to Mexico and moves in with a few muggle roomies. She studies plastic arts at a university and graduates early. She goes back to England to return to her curse breaker activities when Voldemort comes back.

Order of the Phoenix / 2nd Wizarding War: Lith never joins the Order of the Phoenix. She becomes an independent Rescuer, working by herself or for third parties (the Order included) to rescue Undesirables and get them out of the country. She even crafter fake papers to get them out. She does get in contact with members of the Order sometimes, like Carewyn Cromwell, who is one of her main contacts within the Ministry. She fights in the Battle of Hogwarts and saves Talbott’s life after reuniting with him.

Post-War: She decides she has had enough adventures for a while and moves in with Talbott, who quits as an auror and becomes a poet. They get married in a small ceremony which basically was just signing the papers and getting dinner with friends afterwards. After Jacob dies and her nephew Icarus is left orphaned, she takes him in with Talbott and they all move in with Ty at his much bigger home. Lith returns to her curse breaking job to support the whole family, since she doesn’t want Ty to pay for all of their expenses. Charlie moves in too after dating Ty for a while, which was a surprise for all. And they all live together whoo.

Old Age & Death: After retiring definitely, Lith dedicates the rest of her life to art. She even sells some of her works. She paints until her hair starts to turn black and she grows feathers, she paints until her arms don’t obey her anymore. She dies on her bed, with her precious Companion resting on her chest, as they both merge together, accompanied by Talbott, Icarus and her loved ones.

MISC

When they were children, Jacob lost one of his fangs during a sudden transformation and a collision with the door. Lith keeps it as a necklace charm and gifted Jacob one of her own feathers. Because of this, she believes the first black quill is the one he carried as a necklace charm too.

Before they start dating, Lith gives Talbott one of her feathers, which he wears alongside her mother’s. Lith also wears one of his as a necklace, but when she grows older she turns it into an earring. This is one of the reasons why people believe they were already together.

Lith has a habit of drawing on her skin, which is why she sometimes has her legs covered in little doodles. She later starts drawing on her friends.

She hoards art supplies.

She is a gambling addict, so she will get intense during exploding snap games. She knows a lot of card games from her Mother’s side of the family, challenge her at your own risk.

She never learned how to drive.

She learned a bit of mexican magic from her cousins, who attended Aztlán (the mexican wizarding school) created by @tsikuri.

She definitely sings in the shower, but not during her Hogwarts years.

Her taste in music is broad, listening to almost anything except banda.

She has a sweet tooth and cannot stand spicy food, causing the teasing from her whole family, who all, as proud Mexicans, eat chili with everything.

After she graduates, her schedule shifts entirely. She wakes up at 2 pm and goes to sleep at 3 am.

Her love languages are physical touch, but she is too shy and hyper aware to actually approach people and touch them, and gifts.  

If you give her food, you will now be on her “Good human, Angel from Heaven :-:” list. 

Her wand core comes from a bird that can predict death and misfortune, this curiously can be linked to her manifestation of the curse.

Most people think her new wand is ugly, and she did too. But she had to carve it herself to obtain it from an old Mexican wandmaker. The form is also inspired in the flower from the wand wood tree.Lucky: For some reason, Lith has super good luck for the most trivial things, like managing to get a cauldron just before Potions class starts because she forgot hers. She assumes it must be the universe’s compensation for cursing her.

#I took a whole day to do this omg #about lith #hphm mc profile #lith thorne profile #Lith Thorne #hphm #hphm mc #hogwarts mystery mc #hogwarts mystery #Harry Potter Hogwarts mystery #jacob thorne #jacob’s sibling #i´ll do the masterlist as a pinned post tomorrow good night #NEW TAGS #this made me so nostalgic ill probably draw again for the fandom #especially #my werewolf protection squad hc

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

A Family of Five- Part 4: Games and Surprises

Calum and Harlowe’s marriage hasn’t always been easy, but it has always been filled with love. This is a collaborative experience with In Sorrow and In Joy. Dad!Calum. Black OC.

CW: Over the course of this series, there are mentions of pregnancy, therapy, and postpartum depression. There is also 18+ Content (Smut). 

Enjoy my masterlist | Series Masterlist

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No one has my permission to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations as well

___________________________

Calum shouldn’t be this mesmerized by the way her skin looks. But he swears she used some kind of sparkly body oil. The glitter sparkles in the sun, her skin looks heavenly. Much more than it normally does. Brown glistening with gold flecks. He wants it coating his tongue. He shifts a little in his seat; he can already feel the strain in his pants. Calum should be concentrating on the menu in front of him. They already spent all morning in bed. She got in late last night from her reading, due to a delay. By the time she home, the last thing she wanted to do was fool around. Calum understood. Harlowe and he snuggled up in bed and she passed out pretty soon after curling into his chest. 

However, the moment she woke up, Calum couldn’t keep his hands off her. She didn’t seem to mind either. It was slow, soft, lazy sex. Calum buried his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the faint sweet smell of her products, a mixture of something floral and coconut. He loved it. He wants to smell it again. He wants to be gentle in the beginning this time. Her moans are so sweet against his ears, but he also wants more. He wants to hear the pleasure ripping over her throat, he wants to see her eyes roll back into her head. Her wants to see her let go. Calum should’ve offered to cook. But Harlowe wanted to try this little brunch spot that just opened and he couldn’t say no to her pout. 

She’ll only be free for a couple more days. Then it’ll be back to school for her, the end of her spring break. With the release of her new book of poetry, she got invited to a book fest. So they didn’t get to spend nearly as much time together as they both anticipated. The kids are with his parents. Moving back to Australia had its perks for sure. Though, Ashton took them for part of a day. Calum received a video of Esha and Ashton competing in DDR. Ashton’s message attached to the video was I got my ass beat by a nine year old. 

Should the entire two days they have together be spent solely in the bedroom, or whatever part of the house they happen to be in? No, Calum knows that. So he shifts again and pulls his gaze to the orange menu in front of him. It’s enough contrast to the blue shirt of his she’s wearing. She stole the royal blue button up form his side of the closet and he can’t say anything. Especially not with the way she’s left a couple top buttons undone and tied it up at the bottom. Slivers of her chest and stomach poke out. He desperately wants to run his fingers over the stretch marks he knows so well already. She looks like a fucking goddess in front of him. Going on a decade of marriage should make things stale. But things have started to heat up for them. She’s off the meds with a doctor’s approval and Calum’s enjoying the way her new energy. 

Calum glances up at her once again. She’s resting her head on the flat of her knuckles, squishing the fat of her left cheek, gaze zeroed on the menu. “You’re thinking about something,” Harlowe grins before lifting her eyes. 

The moment feels like slow motion for Calum. He can see every lash as her lids lift, her dark brown eyes landing on his. “You,” he says softly, “I’m thinking about you.”

“Well I suggest you start thinking about what you want to order. Because you got three seconds before our server comes up.”

Calum’s fucked. He has no clue what’s on this fucking menu. He doesn’t care. When the server shows up, he lets her order first and then takes the same thing. “If I told them to bring me toast and one lemon, you would be so fucked.”

He exhales a laugh. “No, I wouldn’t be. You would be though.”

“I blame the fact that I had two kids. I can eat a house and home.”

“You talk about Te Koha’s appetite, but you’re the real culprit,” he grins.

She levels a finger at him. “You shush!”

“Make me,” he laughs. Harlowe doesn’t miss the teasing lilt to his voice, the small smirk that lifts half of his lips. She’s noticed him shift in his seat several times while she was debating what to order. She knows what he wants. She will not give in that easy. He’ll have to work for it. 

“What are we? 23 again?”

The smile falls again, he exhales a chuckle. He doesn’t like being reminded of that age, much. It’s nothing against her. It’s everything against him. It was him that tried to end what they had. She had just moved to California for her master’s in poetry. They had been something a step above friends with benefits and a step below a real relationship. It didn’t seem to matter much what the label was, but Calum felt himself, dying to call her about every little thing. She was the first person he wanted to talk to in the morning and the last one he wanted to hear at night. He nearly ruined all that too. Over text message. Stupid fucking text message. 

“Hey,” Harlowe says softly, reaching for his hand. 

Calum shakes his head, sniffling. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to mention how stupid he was in that moment, how terrified he was of fucking it up with the best damn person for him that he did nearly fuck it up. “It’s nothing,” he whispers.

“Nothing my black ass,” she counters, tightly holding onto his fingers. “What’s up, baby?”

He’s doing it again. The same behavior that nearly lost her sixteen years ago. “I love you,” he exhales. “A whole fucking lot. Sometimes I guess it scares me what I nearly did; I’m still so sorry about that. I know I was young, and scared, and a whole bunch of other adjectives, but I was so utterly in love with you, I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t want to fuck it up. I still don’t want to fuck this up. I’m scared I will.”

Harlowe fights to keep the sigh from escaping her. She’s forgiven him. She knows getting Calum to open up requires more patience than she sometimes has. But God, does she wish he’d stop beating himself up over it. What words are left for her to say? “I’ve forgiven you, Calum. It’s time you forgive yourself. You’re human. You’re going to fuck up. I don’t think less of you.”

He nods. She’s right. He really ought to forgive himself. But the words to that message are burned into his retinas some nights and days. We shouldn’t do this; I shouldn’t do this. I can’t do this. You’re too good for me and I’m no good for you. I’ll ruin you. “But how? How do I forgive myself for something like that?”

“You admit it was a mistake. One mistake, amongst a lifetime of them. One you learned from. Clearly. Because we did it. We’re doing it. We’re literally married.”

Her inflection, her laugh, makes him crack a shaky smile. He looks down to the diamond ring. They made it, they are making it each and every day together. “Sorry for bringing it up. I just...sometimes I really get hit with how much of an idiot younger me was.”

“You live; you learn. Younger me was an idiot too. The girl I told off on twitter--yeah, not my most shining moment.”

Calum chuckles, head dropping a little remembering the rant she went on. “You didn’t exactly paint a pretty picture about me either.”

“Look, I was literally months pregnant with Koha and exhausted. The last thing I wanted to do was sit back and have thousands of people judging me-us- for not marrying sooner.”

“Valid. But you didn’t have to mention the one night I partied too hard and got sick, now did you?”

“Okay, but who cleaned up your vomit that night too? Off your own fucking floor? Me. Who took Duke to the vet the next day because you literally were lying under your sheets in the dark? Me.”

Calum groans. It wasn’t a shining moment for anyone. He was only going out for a few hours. He hadn’t had a drink in a while, keeping it out of the house while Harlowe was pregnant. It was a guy’s night tradition and Harlowe told him he should go out for just a little fun. So he did. He promised to have his phone on him, volume at it’s max and on vibrate incase she needed him. She was about six months pregnant, so it she wasn’t terribly far along. Just one night out with one beer, turned in a quick too many shots in succession, a woozy Uber back home and Calum promptly vomiting on the kitchen floor trying to get some water in his system. 

Harlowe heard him from the bedroom, pushed herself out of bed and wordlessly cleaned it up. Calum can’t remember much after that but as Harlowe recounts, he almost cried because she was pregnant and he was the one acting like a child. Every other word out of his mouth was sorry because he hadn’t intended for it to get like this. Harlowe couldn’t carry him like before to the bedroom, so she shushed him and got him on the sofa. He made it only to the bed later, after waking with a killer headache. 

The server returns with their food before he can defend himself. As Calum dunks a piece of french toast into the syrup, he speaks, “Still, it didn’t need to be put on social media.”

“Well, what do you want me to do, go back in time? That science hasn’t exactly been perfected yet,” she huffs. “Besides, we didn’t have to be married at that particular moment either. All the shit we had been through, we were living at our own pace. It still makes me mad to think that some people thought you had even proposed because you felt obligated to.”

 Calum takes a strawberry off his plate and holds it out to her. “Eat this. Clearly I didn’t marry you out of obligation.”

“Strawberries aren’t going to make me calmer,” Harlowe retorts. 

Pulling up from his chair, Calum stretches across the table and drops the berry into her mouth. “Just shut up and eat. Food will make you calmer, second only to my cock,” he adds the second sentence in a whisper. Just loud enough for her to here. 

It doesn’t even shock her. Instead she smiles around her chewing. “So that’s how it is?”

Calum raises an eyebrow. “That’s how it is.”

Harlowe nods. She won’t let this go. She was going to go grocery shopping tomorrow. But now, she’s going to make him suffer a trip. Two can play this game. She plays just a little bit better too. 

Brunch finished, and bill paid, Harlowe taps her fingers on the table. “We should probably get some groceries.”

“You mean tomorrow?” He trails his fingers up the skin of her forearm. He’s waiting to see that shake of her spine, hear the chatter of her teeth. 

“I mean we’re already out now.”

Calum doesn’t let up, dragging his nails over the skin of her elbow joint. He watches her carefully, but he gets nothing. Though he can see a rigid line across her shoulders. She’s tensing, so she won’t give him a reaction. “You’re playing dirty,” he spits. It’s some pretend offense, but some of it is real. How dare she?

“Let’s go while we’re out, yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah, let’s go while we’re out.”

The actual grocery shopping goes by smoothly. Calum stirs the basket while Harlowe takes charge. It’s routine, especially if they bring the kids. Both of them like to bounce around and ask about items not on the grocery list. Sometimes they cave on the small things, but it works much faster when one of the takes lead over the trip. It’s as Harlowe browses through the choices of rice that Calum seizes his opportunity. He slips a hand into the back pocket of her jeans, resting his chin on her shoulder. 

“Can I help you sir?” Harlowe grins. Calum doesn’t miss her sharp inhale before speaking. She keeps a good game face, but he knows her buttons. 

“Just enjoying the view,” he mutters, kissing her cheek. 

A giggle escapes her before she shrugs out of the embrace. She tosses a box into the basket. Calum sighs and starts behind her again. He looks over the produce, onions and bell peppers before finding ones that satisfy him. While he ties off the bag, Harlowe walks up behind him, patting his butt and giving it a squeeze. Calum jolts before looking over his shoulder to the bright grin on her face. “You’re so proud of yourself, huh?” he asks as she scurries away. 

He catches her on the wine aisle. Initially he thought she might be down the candy aisle. But when faced with the severe lack of blue shirts and his beautifully brown wife down the aisle, he knows wine is the second place to check. She’s not drinking right now, but she still likes to keep a bottle in the house for guests. He finds her holding up two different bottles. “I can’t choose. Help, please,” she whines, a pout pulling down her pouty lips. 

“How long have you been holding those bottles?”

“For a while, waiting for you to find me.”

Calum’s laughter hits the empty air of the grocery store loudly. He inhales sharply before his laugh leaves him again. “Are you serious? Put both of them in the cart you fucking goof.”

She sets the bottles down, with a sigh. “Thanks. They were getting heavy.”

Walking around the cart, Calum holds his arms out. Only his wife, only Harlowe. They embrace and Calum still vibrates with his laughter. Before releasing the hug, Calum kisses her forehead, sliding his arms down her waist, resting on the curve to her ass. He lets his hands linger there, kneading softly, fingers playing at the loops of her jeans. 

She shoves his hips. “I’m not going to cave, not here,” Harlowe mutters. She sounds a little breathless and that’s all the reaction Calum needs. 

He grabs her chin gently, silver bracelet sliding down his slender wrist. “Oh yes, you will,�� he commands. Harlowe bites down her lip, fighting her throat to keep the moan down. She can swallow it, keep it at bay. The grip tightens. He needs this. He needs her to cave, because God is he seconds from caving himself, seconds from falling to his knees in the middle of this fucking grocery store to beg for her, for her body, for her sighs, for her moans, for her hands on his skin. 

She wrestles her chin away, exhaling hard. Defying him isn’t going to end well for her. Normally defying means punishments. But he hasn’t dished out any of those in a long time. Harlowe’s toying to see if he will. Calum probably won’t. Not after her spiral from Esha, he’s been extremely gentle during sex. She’s been good too with it, except for now. Now she’s tired of it. She wants to let go finally. 

The walk to the check out is silent. As they load up all the bags into the trunk, it’s silent. It’s not until both doors are closed and seat belts are on does anyone speak. Calum starts the car, before turning to Harlowe. “What was that?”

“Disobedience,” she answers, staring straight ahead. “Which means punishment.”

Calum exhales hard. “Baby, are you sure? I don’t-I don’t want you to feel rushed into anything. I’m okay with taking things slow.”

“I’m tired of slow.”

“We can’t do some of the stuff we used to. I-I can’t just yet. I’m worried.”

“I understand. I’m not asking to dive in head first. I just am tired of slow.” Harlowe watches as Calum nods, but runs his hands through his hair. He looks too hesitant for comfort. He won’t do it, she figures. “Never mind, forget I mentioned it.”

“Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa,” Calum lifts her chin. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to touch you or have sex with you. If you’re tired of slow, you’re tired of slow. You have every right to be.”

“But you said you were worried.”

“Worried, yes. Against, no. I’m cautious. It took almost a year to get back to where we are. I don’t want to push you too fast.” Undoing his seatbelt, Calum stretches over the middle console, brushing his nose over hers. “But you’re tired of slow. So we’ll ratched it up a notch.” He seals her mouth with his. She wastes no time, parting her lips for him. Harlowe is eager to gain more than just slow, and gentle. She wants something to set her skin on fire. 

Calum doesn’t slip his tongue into her mouth. Instead he pulls away. She whines, pushing forward even with the seatbelt pulling her back. He chuckles, patting her cheek. “This is what happens when you disobey.”

Even though a whine falls past her throat, Harlowe grins. This is it. This is the feeling she missed as her fingertips start to buzz. The drive home is silent between them, besides the low hum of the radio. Calum tries to keep his hands to himself, tries to punish her like she’s asking. He just can’t help himself anymore. “Unbutton your pants,” he orders at a red light. 

“What?”

“Unbutton your jeans and get them down as far as you can,” he states again before glancing over to her. 

Harlowe lifts her hips, slowly, popping the button her light denim jeans. She wiggles them down, suddenly very aware that a lot of people could be watching her in that moment. Her underwear selection for the day isn’t the most exciting, a simple pair of black cotton underwear with lace trimming. “What if people see?” she asks. 

“Then they shouldn’t be looking. No one is watching, though.” Calum looks over again. The denim is about half way down her thighs, though she’s struggling to get them down more. “That’s good. Now sit on your hands.”

“What are you doing?”

“Just do as I’m saying, baby.”

Harlowe pulls her hips again and settles down on her hands. The moment her hands are covered by her bottom, Calum slips hand over her thighs. There’s still some firmness to them, but two children have made her soft. The cellulite is harder to miss, but the ridges underneath Calum’s fingertips are enticing. He really wants to sink his teeth into her thighs. As the urge strengthens, he squeezes at her flesh. Not enough to cause pain, but hard enough to soothe the lust. She exhales next to him, shaky.

 “Scared?” Calum asks. 

“No, horny, turned on.”

Dragging his knuckles up her thigh, he brushes over her clothed sex. The thin material is soaked already. He hums at the feeling and pushes the cotton to the side. He can feel her dripping onto his hands. Calum presses the pad of his thumb to a clit. She jolts, a hiss falling from her lips. “Did I say you could move?” Calum asks. 

“Sorry,” she sighs. 

Calum removes his thumb, sliding two fingers into her. She clenches around him, but doesn’t move this time. “Good girl,” he praises, curling them up into her. Harlowe releases another shuddery breath. Calum works his fingers inside her slowly. They’re about two minutes form the house. But he’s going to milk this. Harlowe doesn’t move in her seat but her grip on the door is deadly.

All the color is starting to drain from her skin around her knuckles. She moans occasionally, but mostly tries to keep those sounds contained too. Calum turns into the driveway of the house, putting the car in park. He pulls his fingers out of her. Harlowe starts to whine, but before the sound can fully escape her, Calum’s unbuckled himself and leaning across the way. He kisses down her jaw, inserting his fingers again. 

Her breathe is ghosting over his cheek, and his exhales are blowing right over hers. “Cum for me.” Calum’s voice is strained, desperate. Almost pained, like he’s on the edge of breaking down too, watching Harlowe’s heaving increase. 

“Fuck, shit,” she cries. She’s getting there. Her pelvic muscles are tightening around him. Her hips are lifting, her curls are pressed so deep into the headrest, if she doesn’t leave an indent, he’ll be shocked. 

“You’re so close,” he coaxes, gently grazing his teeth over his skin. Right on the cusp of her orgasm, Calum considers pulling away, making her fall apart around nothing. He wants to ruin it. And that’s what he does, right on the edge of her cry, Calum pulls away from her completely. 

Harlowe swears, slamming her palms against the door handle. Her cry is mangled. When she opens her eyes, Calum can see tears on the falling down her cheeks. With his clean hand he wipes them away. “You motherfucker,” she heaves, turning into his touch. “I hate you, a tiny bit.”

“You okay?”

She laughs, “I mean on the one hand, that was on track to be the best orgasm of my life and on the other hand, you ruined it, so...you know I don’t know.”

Calum brings his coated finger to his mouth, sucking them clean. He pulls his digits from his mouth with a pop. “Clean yourself up. There’s still ice cream and sorbet to put up.” 

Due to two kids already, they keep the vehicles well stocked with tissues and wipes. Calum hands her the packet after taking one for himself. They’re baby wipes. Harlowe reaches behind Calum’s seat and unhooks the small plastic bag they leave in for trash. He is mindful to let her get her pants back up before opening his door. 

Calum grabs two bags from the trunk when Harlowe walks around and pushes on his shoulder. The smirk on his face let’s him know everything is good. “You asked for it,” Calum counters with a pause. “Don’t get mad at me, doll.”

Harlowe huffs next to him. Calum giggles, hurrying into the house with his bags. She hates that pet name. The first time he used it, she immediately ceased him from using it ever again. He only pulls it out in instances like this, just to annoy her, to rile her up. Harlowe storms after him, careful of the paper bags in her hands. “Calum Thomas Hood!” she bellows into the house. 

Pepper halts in her run to greet Harlowe. She knows that tone. “Pepper,” Harlowe coos. “I wasn’t talking to you angel. I’m sorry.” 

Harlowe drops her bags and holds out her hands. Pepper continues over, rubbing in close to Harlowe’s embrace. Sissy and Jack come trotting over too. She scratches at their heads too. Calum rounds the corner of the kitchen, prepared for her fierce gaze, but she’s too preoccupied by the dogs. He seizes this moment and brings in the last of the grocery before locking up the car and the house. 

“Don’t think I’m not still pissed about you calling me doll just because I’m playing with the dogs.”

“You know you love it,” he teases, his sing song cadence making Harlowe melt at the sound, but also grow a bit more frustrated. She hates the term, but somehow, it’s much less grating hearing it from his lips. It’s her more Southern upbringing. She is no one’s doll, no one’s play thing. She’s not plastic waiting to be structured. But for Calum she would be. For him, she would be a doll-the most perfect one too. 

“I love you babies. But Papa Bear will eat my sorbet if I don’t hide it,” Harlowe teases.

“I bought a separate pint for me, so you shush,” Calum shouts with a chuckle. 

Harlowe kisses the top of Jack’s head. “He’ll still eat some of mine.” She takes over putting away the last of the items, not even realizing Calum has disappeared until something cold touches her exposed stomach. She jumps into Calum’s chest, he snakes his arm even further around her waist. If he’s wearing rings, Harlowe swears she’s going to lose it. She glances down to see a bracelet. A new one in addition to the silver chain from earlier. Her gaze travels up from his wrist and sure enough his fingers adorn several of his favorite rings. His left hand slides up the back of her, the cold metal biting at her neck. 

“Fuck,” she whispers. The rest of her sentence dies on her lips as he brings his hand around to her throat. There’s no pressure, he’s just cupping the front of her neck, thumb ghosting over her skin. The paper towels fall from Harlowe’s slack grasp. 

“Pick those up, doll. Put them where they belong. I’m not doing anything.”

But he’s doing everything to make Harlowe turn into putty. She bends over, grabbing the  still wrapped paper towel roll from the floor, ass lined up with his crotch. Rolling up to stand, she pops onto her tiptoes to put the roll with the others on the shelf of the pantry. Her butt pops out as she leans forward, sliding it next to other waiting roll. The pantry door closes and before she can blink, Calum grabs her hips and spins her around. As he takes a step forward, she takes one back, pressing into the woodend door. 

His fingers trail across her stomach, pulling at the knot in his shirt. It falls open, her cropped camisole rests high on her waist. Calum presses his palm into her stomach, not too hard, but enough. She holds tightly to his wrist, tugging him even closer to her. “Tell me what you’re waiting on?” She asks, grabbing the back of his neck. Her lips ghost along his jaw, up to his ear. “You’re moving too slow.”

He doesn’t want to hurt her or scare her. Calum knows, however, he has to act fast. He pushes down the shirt from her shoulders, kissing across her shoulders. Once it falls into a heap at their feet, he pulls away, undoing his belt and pulling it from the loops. He pops the button on her jeans, pulling her back into him. “You won’t be saying that again,” he warns before turninf her back around. 

Harlowe braces against the pantry door. Calum unzips her jeans before pushing them down her hips. It’s not until he starts kissing the skin exposed as he undresses her that Harlowe suddenly finds her stomach filled with butterflies. Her body has changed so much since having kids. Nothing feels firm anymore to her. It scares her to think maybe she’s not as attractive as she used to be to him. 

Calum can sense something happening in her. He bites at her right cheek. “Stay with me, doll.”

“I’m jiggly though,” she sighs. Calum pushes up from his knees, standing at the back of her. His erection brushing against her. The sensation shocks her, her core clenches. Maybe she’s wrong. 

“You feel that?” he asks, pressing harder into her. 

“Yes,” she moans. He feels painfully hard against her. 

“Jiggly or not, you are my wife. You’ve blessed me with two children and three dogs. You are stunning and incredible. Besides,” he grins, running his hand over her ass. “I like the jiggle. A lot more for me to play with. But I can show you a lot better than I talk about how attracted I still am to you.”

Harlowe chuckles, turning her head to look at him. His pupils are blown, she can barely see the brown in his eyes. The beam to his grin makes ease some of her worries. “May I?” he questions, fingers trailing over the edges of her underwear. 

“Please,” she breathes. 

Calum sinks back to his knees, kissing over the back of her thighs, before pulling her completely of her jeans. Her panties are next to go before Calum settles between her legs. She pushes off the door some more. “Fuck,” he groans. “You’re so pretty, ya know? It’s a gorgeous sight you this wet for me.”

Harlowe can’t speak before his mouth is on her, sucking hard. “Ah, shit,” she shudders at the first contact, fist slamming into the pantry door. He hums at the curse. He grabs at her thighs to keep her stance wide enough for him. Her body quivers above him. Harlowe can barely get her breath. It’s taking all her core strength to stay upright as Calum laps at her. The sounds are lewd, the slurping, the swears, the moans. 

It’s a bad idea to take a hand off the wall, but Harlowe pushes up and looks down at Calum, his tongue swirling around her clit, flicking it. She grabs a fistful of his curls and tugs on them. He releases a moan, vibrating against her. Her stomach is on fire. “I-” she starts before her orgasm crashes over her. She groans, striking the door again with a closed fist. Finally, after what feels like forever, Harlowe exhales hard before gaining her breath. “Oh, fuck,” she heaves, resting her forehead into the door.

Calum teases her entrance with his fingers. Harlowe hisses above him. His palm is soft and warm against her thighs. “Shh, it’s okay,” one hand soothes her, the other still dancing around her opening. 

“I can’t. Please.”

“Okay,” he agrees pulling away from her. Sliding out from beneath her, Calum stands. Shedding his shirt and pants, he guides her upstairs. Harlowe watches the muscles of his back work beneath his smooth brown skin. Inside the bedroom before Calum and turn around, she drags her nails across his shoulders and down his back. Her lips leaves wet kisses over his skin. Calum shiver at the love bites she leaves. Snaking her arms around, she feels over his chest and stomach, fingers playing at the chains around his neck. 

“You’re moving too slow,” he teases. It’s mostly to prevent him from buckling right here. His knees are weak. With a laugh, she pushes him towards the bed. Calum climbs onto the mattress. As he settles and turns around, Harlowe’s already shed the camisole, arms now behind her back as she works to unhook the bra. “Should’ve let me do it,” he laughs, though it fades away as the cups fall away from her body. 

“Got anything else smart to say?” 

He shakes his head, watching her saunter to the edge of the bed. She crawls up his body, stopping occasionally to leave kisses on his thighs. He closes his has as his stomach tenses. Her lips and kisses are so soft, he swears he’s going to explode. His body feels like it’s buzzing. Her fingers curl into the band of his boxer briefs. He doesn’t refute the action, lifting his hips and letting her take them completely off him. 

She settles high on him, hovering right over her cock. Calum opens his eyes, watching the smirk on her face. The warmth and wetness slide right over him. “Shit,” he huffs, watching her slide up and down his length. “Don’t do this to me, doll. Please don’t.”

Harlowe stretches forward, gently taking the lobe of his ear between her teeth. “Call me doll one more time and see what happens.”

Calum runs his fingers up her back and sides. He’s silent, waiting for her to pull back in satisfaction. He knows she will if he remains quiet and then he can go in for the kill. Sure enough, she does, Harlowe tugs on his ear one last time before pulling away. That’s when he wraps his hand around her throat, squeezing. “What was that, doll?”

The hold isn’t too tight, but it stops Harlowe in her tracks. He was just going soft on her, just to give her some semblance of control to not freak her out. Calum watches her carefully, waiting for the gulp she usually does when she’s uncomfortable. But it never comes. She keeps her eyes trained on Calum. “Sorry,” she whispers. 

“Sorry what?”

“You might have to remind me. I forget.” The statement seems believable until she cracks a smile. That’s when Calum knows she’s acting out. He brings his second hand around her throat, and pulls her face down towards him. 

“I’ll remind you,” he growls. “You’re going to take my cock. Don’t breathe. Don’t think. Just bounce.”

Harlowe lifts up, lining him up to her entrance. For a brief second she considers maybe they should use a condom. Doctors have told her getting pregnant a third time isn’t impossible it’s just improbable. They’ve already agreed to try for a third child, even if the odds seem impossible. They go without condoms sometimes. It’s usually discussed beforehand. “Would you like me to put a condom on?” he asks, grip already loosening around her neck. 

Harlowe, with a rush of boldness, presses his hand back and slides down his length. “No,” she moans. “No, I don’t.”

Calum tightens the grip. “You’re still not addressing properly.”

Harlowe pulls herself up before taking him back in. She gives no verbal response, focused slowly on the bubble of heat starting. Calum watches her bouncing on his cock. It’s a sight to behold, the curls that shake with her moment, the way her breast bounce with her effort too. A moan slips over her lips, it’s tight and quiet from the pressure around her throat. Calum takes one hand away from her throat, wrapping it around her waist. He pulls her up and close to his chest, before driving his hips up into her. Harlowe braces herself above his hand, “Shit. God, don’t stop.”

“You will address me correctly, doll.” He gives a purposefully hard thrust, before slowly sliding out. 

Harlowe whines at the lost of her orgasm. “No, please, I’m sorry.”

“Then address me properly. Sorry, what?”

“I’m sorry sir,” she cries, eyes begging him. “Please don’t stop, Sir.”

“That’s more like it,” he smiles, thrusting back into her. The sound of relief that leaves her makes Calum almost cum. Harlowe sighs above him, the sound a little high in pitch. Calum removes his hand from her throat, slowing. Harlowe takes over, sliding up and down his length. With a nipple in his mouth, Calum moans. He’s missed this. He’s craved seeing her like this. A thin sheet of sweat covers her forehead, her knees pop just a little. But it doesn’t stop her, she chases down her orgasm. 

“Shit,” she groans, clenching around him. 

Calum runs his fingers over the side of her face, moans falling from her lips before he can catch them. “That’s right, just take all of it. Just bounce, baby.”

“I’m close, sir,” she warns. Calum’s own orgasm is still far down the line. He prays she can hold out for one last orgasm. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Let go.” 

“I want you to cum though. I need it,” she whines. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll get there. Give me this one. Cum around my cock, pretty girl. Please.” Pressing his thumb to her clit, he rubs it in circles. Even though Harlowe has slowed the added sensation is too much. She cries out, spasming around Calum’s cock. 

Calum holds her close, rubbing her back through the haze. “God,” he whispers. “You ought to see how beautiful you are when you cum.”

Harlowe chuckles into his skin, though it’s hot and clammy, it smells like home. “Mirror’s right over there,” she points, still nestled onto his cock. 

“Don’t give me any ideas, pretty girl.” It’s silent for a minute as Calum gently scratches at her scalp beneath the coils wrapping around his fingers. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have one more in you?”

She might, it looks slim. Her legs already feel pretty unstable. “Would I be on my hands and knees?”

“No, we can arrange it so you’re not on your hands and knees.”

“Then, yeah, I got one more in me,” she laughs, sitting up.

“Lay on your back, baby.” Harlowe compiles. Calum hovers a for a second, drinking in the sight of her. “I know what you’re thinking. No, it’s not going to be slow. So strap in.”

His first thrust is easy, an adjustment. But three strokes later, her legs are on his shoulder, the bed rocking into the wall. Harlowe hisses a little, reaching up for him. Calum meets her with a kiss, still holding her thighs spread open. His thrust become so hard that her head falls ips over the edge of the bed. But she’s in direct view of the mirror. As the blood rushes to her head, she can see Calum’s gaze stuck on her, not even the reflection of her, just him gazing down at her. She chuckles until the pleasure catches up with her again. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks breathless as his hips continue to snap into her. 

“Someone’s working hard to put a baby in me.”

Calum grins, bending over again. He kisses her, even when he’s rough she’s still finding something to giggle about. He trails his tongue down her neck, tasting the salt of her sweat and the taste of juices still left from before mixing on his tongue. His stomach clenches. He’s not going to last much longer. But he’d like to give her that third true orgasm that he promised. So he slows a little, thrusting deeper, but slower. He circles her clit, watching as her voice comes out strained with her swear. “You gonna give me another one? You said you had one more in you,” Calum taunts.

“Faster, I need your fingers faster, please.”

He kisses on the underside of her chin. “Hmm, anything for you, baby.” Calum speeds up his fingers, feeling his own orgasm approaching faster. He won’t make it after her, but he can still make sure she sees her end. Harlowe grips tightly at his bicep, holding her head up from the edge. It hurts how close she is at this point. “God, fuck, Oh God,” she pants.

“It’s-fuck- it’s okay, baby.” Calum’s orgasm crashes over him. He knows his moaning pretty loudly in her ear, but the sound leaves him abruptly. He doesn’t still, still thrusting through the high. 

“Calum, fuck,” Harlowe growls, voice thick with something like pain and pleasure. She clenches around him, his name falling from her lips again and again like a prayer. 

Post clean up, Harlowe lays on her back, legs thrown over Calum’s waist. His fingers dance over her skin. He can see a few reddish purple marks blossoming on her skin. “Do they hurt?” he asks. 

“No. They don’t ever really hurt unless I repeatedly hit that area.”

“I know. I’m just making sure.” He takes her spoon and scoops himself some of the peach mango sorbet. 

“Hey!” she reprimands. 

“I’m too lazy to get mine from downstairs. It’s too many steps.”

“It’s a flight and a half.”

“Still too many.” Harlowe finishes the last few spoonfuls, setting the bowl on the nightstand. Calum rolls his eyes. “I only wanted the one spoonful.” As they settle back on the screen, Harlowe wraps one arm around her stomach. Something feels different. A good different. 

__

Harlowe’s hands shake. She ought to take this pregnancy test. That’s the only way to know for sure. But she can’t do it. She reschedules her OBGYN appointment too. Until next week. Next week she’ll have her bearings together. Her head will be on straighter and she won’t be thinking about what the hell she and Calum are going to do with a newborn. They’ve long gotten rid of the diapers, and the cribs. Does she really have it in her to have another baby this late?

Instead of going to her OBGYN, she ends up buying tampons and more sorbet. It’s a light period, but still a period. She should’ve known that she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant again. Part of her feels like an idiot for even thinking it was a possibility. Doctor’s told her chances would be slim. So why think that she would the special case? 

Calum knocks on the bedroom door. After work, Harlowe mentioned being exhausted, so she took a nap. “Babe, dinner’s ready,” he says softly shaking her awake. Harlowe stretches after sitting up. Calum looks at his wife. She’s mentioned being tired most days. Her appetite isn’t much of a strange from normal, though the last few weeks she’s been extra sensitive about the smeell of seafood. The same thing when she was pregnant with Esha. 

“You ought to go to that appointment, babe.”

“For them to tell me I’m broken. I know that already.”

“Maybe you aren’t. But you can’t stand the smell of seafood anymore, you’re craving nuts again. You’re tired. I think you might be pregnant.” He doesn’t want to talk to loudly, doesn’t want to give himself false hope. But the thought keeps nagging him. “You’re spotting as well. I don’t think they’re full on periods.”

Harlowe nods. Her silence speaks volumes. Calum doesn’t pushes it. He takes her hand and they walk downstairs to the dining room. “How was your nap?” Te Koha asks. 

She kisses the top of his head. “Good, very good.” She settles in at the table next to Esha. She presses several kisses to her cheek.

“Mom,” Esha huffs. Calum sits across from her, watching the way she devours her dinner. Something is definitely up. Over the weekend, Calum steals a moment to call his mother. Joy warn him he has to do something even if it means dragging her to the office. On Tuesdays, Harlowe’s classes are finished early. So he knows he has to schedule it then, but he feels horrible forcing her. Joy, on the other hand, does not feel the same way. 

Her office hours through, Harlowe starts packing her backpack when a knocks rings out. The door opens and Joy pokes her head through. “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise,” Harlowe grins, walking over to embrace her mother-in-law.

“I needed some help with something and figured I’d pop by to see if you were free.”

“Yeah classes are done, but Calum was coming to pick me up,” Harlowe states. “Let me call him, he might even be in the parking lot.”

“I didn’t see his car. But I’m not sure where he parked though.”

Harlowe gathers the last of her things and pulls out her phone. Calum answers on the second ring. “Hey, I’m leaving now. I know I’m late. Got hung up in the studio.”

“Hey. Don’t worry. Your mom’s here. She needs help. I’m going to go with her.”

“Okay. Tell her I said hi.”

“Calum says hi,” Harlowe relays moving the phone. Joy grins.

“So sorry again, babe. Lost track of time. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay. The kids catch the bus, so it’s all good.” They hang up shortly after and the two woman start towards the parking lot. Joy watches Harlowe closely as they walk to the car. She can feel it; Harlowe’s pregnant again. She’s not sure if it scares Harlowe to have another child and that’s why she refuses to believe it. But whatever the case it is, clearly the woman knows something is up. She avoids deli meats, she doesn’t drink alcohol, has quit caffeine all together, everything she should be doing in pregnancy. She knows. But why does she not believe?

During the ride, Harlowe notes the strange route. But feels a bit rude questioning Joy. When they pull up in front of the small beige brick building, Harlowe sighs. “I should’ve figured.”

“You need to know. It’s been nearing what ten, eleven weeks at this point? You’re starting to show.”

Harlowe snaps her head over to the older woman. “Show? I’m two ounces short of being a keg. I am not showing; it’s not baby fat.”

A soft grin plays over Joy’s lips, all too similar to Calum’s. She doesn’t mean weight wise. It’s written across the glow in her skin. She is showing without even realizing.  “Then let’s find out, yeah?” The women climb out of the car and Joy takes Harlowe’s hand. “I know. You are pregnant though.”

It’s not nerve wrecking when she signs in her appointment. It’s not nerve wrecking waiting for the nurse to call her back. Harlowe doesn’t have nerve, listing the symptoms. It’s only when they break out the sheet to protect her skirt that the nerves start. Harlowe clutches Joy’s hand when they doctor slips on the gloves. She is pregnant. She knows it. She just didn’t want to be wrong. She couldn’t stand the thought that she the test would come back negative. That all those things were just her brain thinking, wanting a baby so bad, it played this trick on her. Harlowe stares up at the ceiling. She can’t bare to watch a blank screen. 

Thump-thump, thump-thump echoes around the room. Harlowe’s eyes sting with tears. That’s all she needs to hear. “Call Calum, please?” she cries to Joy. “Please. He needs to hear. Can she please call my husband?”

The doctor grins and a nurse exits the room. “Give us one moment, okay?”

Harlowe wipes her tears, staring at the monitor. The door creaks open again. She turns to the sound to see Calum. He walks far enough inside and have the door close, but the heartbeat echoing makes him stop. That’s his baby’s heartbeat. Tears slip down his cheek and Harlowe laughs. “God, we’re both a hot mess of tears.”

“You’re pregnant?” he breathes. 

She nods, the stiff paper of the bed crinkles under her movement. “I am. That’s our baby.”

Calum rushes over, burying his face into her shoulder. His tears are hot even through the cotton off her t-shirt. Inhaling deeply, Calum looks to the screen again. That’s his baby. His miracle, his next little one. The joy coursing through his veins lights his bones on fire. Though the late nights are tortuous, and changing diapers are not ideal again, after nearly seven years of not having to do it, he is fucking ecstatic. 

Harlowe has been dying for a third baby and he wanted nothing more than to give that to her. It was out of his hands, it was up to the numbers, gods, and chances. But he prayed for it, he begged to the high heavens to give this to her. She needed a good thing in her corner after her long battle. He knew she didn’t take him for granted, but there’s nothing quite like knowing something is sort of within reach and never being able to reach it. Until now. 

Calum turns his gaze, though blurry and watery, down to Harlowe. He wraps an arm around her hair and head, kissing her forehead repeatedly. “I love you,” he breathes into her skin. “And this baby.”

Harlowe holds to his bicep, pressing her face into the flesh and dense muscle. “I love you too. I’m so sorry I didn’t go sooner. I am so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay. You were smart about your diet. You knew. And now you can believe it. It’s okay. I’m here.”

“But what if I wasn’t. What if I fucked up.”

“Then it would be a mistake. One among a lifetime of many. We would’ve handled whatever came our way, together. Right?”

“Always together.”

Back in the car, Harlowe hold the print out of the sonogram, gently rubbing her fingers over it. She was smart and Calum would always be right by her side. “So, are we good on babies?” Calum asks. 

“God, yes. No more, please.”

Calum laughs, grabbing her knee. “I have a consultation next week.”

They’ve weighed their options. Calum’s against her going in major surgery. Though Harlowe’s response is that a vasectomy is still surgery too. “What if I wasn’t pregnant?”

“Then I would’ve cancelled it, unless we were done trying.”

“Well, I’m done trying,” she laughs. 

“Should I schedule before or after the birth?”

“Before,” she whispers. Though worry flashes through her veins, she feels like waiting won’t help her. She prays nothing happens in this pregnancy, but part of her is tired. If she’s not meant to have a third child, then she’s not meant to birth a third child. There are still other options. 

“You’re worrying again. None of that. That’s our little one growing in you. It’s all going to be okay.”

She nods, though he can’t see it. It’ll all be okay.

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic #calum hood imagine #calum hood blurb #calum hood x black OC #calum 5sos #dad!cal #dad!cal series #dad!calum #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer imagine #h writes

[nickysurfer28]

Summary: Now that you know the truth about what Chris has done, can you find it in your heart to forgive him?

Characters: Dr.Nicky Ransom x Chris Evans , Judith, Denise Ames (Cousin),Clare- sister to Nicky (mentioning) ,Adrian -(mentioning) (twin to Chris )

Warning ⚠️: 18+ only , swearing smut,nudity,angst,paranormal

Chapter 13:

Dream sequence **

The final door opens to a familiar room.

“Is this... my room at the Marina Blanca Motel?” Nicky replied.

And on the bed, writhing in sexual ecstasy...

“Oh my God, that’s me!”

But it isn’t the wanton moans escaping her dreaming self’s lips that make the blood drain from her face...it’s the sight of Chris sitting beside her, a look of deep concentration on his face as his hands over over her body.

“It’s the safest to feed while humans dream.” Chris answered.

The Nicky in the bed sighs blissfully- dreaming, she knows, of a lover on a twilight beach.

“And erotic dreams yield the most energy.” Chris replied.

She staggered back, her heart in her throat.

“It’s was Chris! I thought they were just dreams, but the whole time it was him! I feel so...confused. How is this happening?”

The Chris at the sleeping Nicky’s side lowers his forehead to hers, an unearthly golden glow suffusing his body as she comes. Sated, he rises from the bed.

“Do you understand now?” Chris replied.

“You...you fed on me...” Nicky answered.

“I didn’t seek you out, but I sensed the strength of your life force the night we met.” Chris answered.

“You fed on me!” Nicky answered angrily.

“Only because I knew it wouldn’t harm you.” Chris replied.

He reaches for her, but she shoved him away with all her might.

“That doesn’t make it better, Chris! I didn’t consent to it! To any of it! Nicky yelled.

“I know, Nicky, and I’m sorry. Please believe that I never meant for it to go this far.” Chris replied sadly.

“I do believe you.” Nicky answered. “And we’re finished here.”

Dream sequence end.

She breaks free of the dream, waking abruptly in Chris’s library. Chris is crouched before her, concerned blue eyes boring into her. She rises unsteadily from her chair. The room spins.

“Carful, now-“ Chris answered.

He reaches out, as if to help her up.

Sighing, she let him reach out to steady her. His strong arms are careful, almost delicate as he touches her.

“Are you all right?” Chris answered.

She leans against him as her visions swims.

“I...I’m fine.” Nicky answered.

Gently, she breaks away from him.

“Chris, I need to think.” Nicky answered. “No matter how you look at it, this is a betrayal of trust. I can’t believe I thought... I can’t believe I wanted...”

“Nicky...” Chris answered sadly.

“Don’t.” Nicky replied. She sighs. “I’m sorry, Chris, but I need space. I don’t want to see you right now. Maybe not ever.”

She turns on her heels, fleeing into the safety of the bright morning sun.

A car pulls up just as she reaches the street. Judith rolls down the window.

“Need a lift?” Judith answers.

Somehow, she’s not surprised to see her. She clamber silently into the passenger’s side, and Judith pulls away from the curb.

“You know, don’t you? What he is.” Nicky answered.

“I did. He texted a while ago for me to pick you up.” Judith answered. “He thought you might need to talk to someone...human.”

“Oh my God...” Nicky replied sadly.

Nicky scrubbed her hands over her face. “I’m so overwhelmed, all I can do is...cry.”

Huge, soul-shattering sobs tear from her throat. Judith says nothing, only hands her a pack of tissues.

“Let it all out, honey. That’s the only thing for it.” Judith replied.

Nicky sniffles into the tissue as Judith parks near a park.

“How long have you know about him?” Nicky answered.

“Why...since about 1942.” Judith answered.

Her jaw drops.

“But...you’d have been-“ Nicky answered.

“A little girl?” Judith answered. “I was. In occupied France. My parents died in the resistance. When the Allied forces arrived, Chris found me hiding in what remained of our village. He took me in. Not long after that, I walked in on him...”

“Feeding?” Nicky answered.

“I was trying to think of a nicer word for it, but yes.” Judith replied.

“And... you weren’t afraid?” Nicky replied.

Judith shrugs.

“I was a child of war, honey. By that age, I’d seen humans do worse.” Judith replied. “ Chris’s unique needs were easy enough for me to accept.”

Judith takes in the scenery, than looks back at Nicky.

“How about a walk? I think some fresh air might do us both some good.” Judith answered.

Nicky nods, following her lead.

“What I don’t know is why Chris decided to tell you about all this now.” Judith answered.

“I...might have forced his hand a little.” Nicky answered awkwardly.

She giver her a quick recap of her confrontation with Chris , and her expression grows steadily sadder.

“I had no idea about your sister I’m so sorry.” Judith replied.

“Did you know about Adrian?” Nicky replied.

“Only that he existed and Chris hadn’t seen him over a hundred years.” Judith answered. “If I’d suspected that bastard was the one who took my Denise...”

Despite herself, she smile. “Judith...I’m pretty sure you’d have kicked his ass. You’re a tough old broad.”

“And don’t you forget it!” Judith smiled.

Nicky lapse into easy silence as she walked, watching the boats drift along the clam water.

“Judith? Did Chris ever feed on you?” Nicky answered.

Judith shakes her head.

“Never. He makes a paint of never feeding on people he knows personally.” Judith replied.

“Until now.” Nicky answered.

“Until now.” Judith replied. “So you can see, then, why I suspect you’re so special.”

“I don’t feel special. Just used. Manipulated.” Nicky answered sadly.

“Well. I do see why.” Judith replied.

Judith inclines her head toward the car. “Come on. Let’s head back.” Judith answered.

When Nicky returns, Judith pauses.

“I brought something to show you, if you’ll let me. To shed some light on who Chris really is.” Judith replied.

“Show me. Please.” Nicky replied.

Judith pops the trunk, producing a shoebox full of photos. She hands her one.

“This was taken the day he found me.” Judith replied.

Nicky heart aches for the little girl in her ruined village.

“Oh, Judith...” Nicky replied sadly.

“It gets better from here, I promise.” Judith answered.

Judith shows her 15th birthday. Her high school graduation. Her wedding. And ever present in the background....

“Chris. He was with her every step of the way. No wonder she loves him so much.”

Nicky’s eyes begin to well as Judith hands her a portrait of herself in her 20s.

“You were so beautiful.” Nicky answered. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Judith.”

“Do you understand now? Who he is?” Judith replied.

“I think I’m starting to.” Nicky replied.

Nicky sighs.

“Chris didn’t ask to be what he is,Nicky. He’d be something else in a heartbeat if he could.” Judith answered. “But he is a good man. And he is crazy about you.”

“Judith-“ Nicky replied.

Judith waves her hand.

“You have every right to be furious with him, I know. But I also think it may be worth giving him a second chance.” Judith replied. “Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

“I....will.” Nicky answered. “I have a lot of thinking to do.”

“Thank you, honey.” Judith replied.

Judith drops you off at home, and Nicky goes about her day as if her entire world hadn’t just changed forever. Her final client of the day is an exhausted-looking woman. She wrings her hands nervously as she sits on Nicky’s couch.

“Can you tell me a little about what brings you here,Mrs. Sahir?” Nicky replied.

She frowns down at her hands.

“I...I’m afraid to go to sleep.” Mrs. Sahir replied.

“ And why is that? Nicky replied.

“It’s ridiculous.” Mrs. Sahir replied.

“Not if it’s negatively impacting your life, it isn’t.” Nicky replied.

She breathes a heavy sigh.

“Every time I close my eyes... I see monsters lying in wait to attack me.” Mrs. Sahir replied sadly. She clenches her fists.

“But I’m sick of being afraid! I’m ready to take control of my life.” Mrs. Sahir replied angrily.

And in that moment, Nicky realize it’s time for her to do the same.

That night, Nicky returned to Chris’s house to find him watching the stars through a telescope. The stars above look like small crystals, the moon like a beacon. Yet, somehow, Chris out shines it all.

“You... look like you have a lot on your mind. Anything I can do to help?” Nicky answered.

Chris whips around at the sound of her voice.

“Nicky!” Chris yelled. “ I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

“Yeah, well. That makes two of us.” Nicky replied.

“What changed?” Chris answered.

“Nothing. Everything.” Nicky answered. “Chris, I ...”

But her words fail her.

Nicky takes his face in her hands and kiss him. He stiffens in surprise....

“Nicky!” Chris answered.

...then kisses up her back passionately, clutching her to him as though her never wants to let her go.

“Nicky...” Chris answered blushing.

“Mmmm...”Nicky replied.

She wind her arms around his neck, parting her lips to admit his questing tongue.

“I’m taking control of my life. And I know I want Chris to be part of it.”

He holds Nicky close, and she feels as though she could conquer the world. But then he steps away, his blue eyes pained.

“You should go.” Chris replied sadly.

“...why?” Nicky answered.

“Isn’t it obvious, Nicky?” Chris answered.

He lets out a long sigh.

“You know what I am, Nicky. What I’ve done. What I’ll continue to do.” Chris replied sadly. “I’m... I’m a monster.”

Something in her heart feels like it breaks as he says that.

“Chris... you’re not a monster.”Nicky replied.

“Hah.” Chris replied.

His smile is bitter, but she shakes her head.

“You’re not. And I mean that.” Nicky answered. “I’m not going to stand here and tell you what you did was okay because it wasn’t. But I understand. And I forgive you.”

Nicky cups his cheek, looking deeply into his eyes.

“You mean so much to me, Chris.” Nicky replied. “I know that makes no sense because I just met you, but I’ve never felt this way before. It’s new, and it’s terrifying, and I don’t know which way is up anymore, but...I do know I’d regret it forever if I let you go. So I forgive you. Chris. I forgive you completely.”

He swallows hard, averting his eyes.

“And Adrian? Do you for him, too?” Chris answered. “ I preyed on you, just as he preyed on Clare and Denise.”

“Chris, you’re nothing like your brother!” Nicky answered.

“I’m exactly like him, Nicky. Right down to our DNA.” Chris answered sadly.

“Chris, that’s ... silly. Our actions make us who we are, not our genetics. You’re not like Adrian, Chris. You’re not even close, and I’m pretty sure you know it. I think what you may actually be struggling with is a fear of emotional vulnerability.” Nicky replied.

Chris laughs.

“Ever the therapist.” Chris replied.

“You have to admit you kind of need one.” Nicky replied with a smirk.

“You have no idea.” Chris replied with a smile.

Then, he pulls her into his arms, kissing her as though his life depends on it. But when she reaches to undo his belt, he stops her.

“We can’t. Nicky.” Chris answered.

“It sort of... feels like we can.” Nicky replied.

He steps away, putting some distance between his erection and her misbehaving hands.

“Not in the physical world. It’s would be too dangerous for you.” Chris replied. “It’s too easy to lose control at the moment of climax. To take too much.”

“Chris...I trust you.” Nicky answered.

“But I don’t trust myself.” Chris replied.

Disappointed though she is, she can understand his concern.

“What do you propose, then?” Nicky replied.

“Perhaps you should take control.” Chris replied.

With a smile that makes her shiver, he takes her hand and leads her into one of the bedrooms. He lays her on the bed and draws her down into sleep.

**somewhat dream sequence **

Nicky awakes nude in a familiar study.

“No fair.” Nicky answered.

Chris grins wickedly.

“Maybe I need to be taught some manners. What do you think, doctor?” Chris answered.

“Get on the couch.” Nicky answered.

“You didn’t say “please” Chris replied.

Nicky seized his chin on her hand.

“And I won’t.” Nicky answered.

“Yes, Doctor.” Chris replied.

He stretches out, grinning as she straddles his hips. He reaches out for her, but she swats his hands away.

“No. Hands behind your head.” Nicky replied.

He obeys, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh, Dr. Ransom, what do you have in mind?” Chris replied.

“I don’t recall giving you permission to speak, Mr. Evans.” Nicky answered.

She catches his lower lip between her teeth, and he groans. She trails her hands lovingly down his body.

“Ahh...” Chris yelled.

Nicky giggles, pressing wet kisses down his abdomen. Chris draws in a sharp breath as she presses her lips to the head of his cock.

“Let’s see what other sounds I ca get you to make.” Nicky answered with a smirk.

He gasps as she licks a long stripe along the underside of cock...holds his breath as she flicks her tongue against the knot at the base of head...and moans loudly when she’s taken him in her mouth.

“Fuck...” Chris yelled.

She hums around him, her lips sliding wetly up and down his shaft.

“He even tastes good.”

She relaxes her throat, taking him deeper. Soon she feels his fingers in her hair, tugging her away.

“Not if you want this to last much longer.” Chris replied blushing red.

She drags her tongue back up his body and position herself over his hard cock.

“Say “please.” Nicky replied.

“Please.” Chris answered.

But then, Nicky feels a great sadness.

“I want to be with him in real life. I wan to be with him...”

Nicky closes her eyes, imagining that you’re being pulled from the dream.

“Wake up....”

She and Chris groan in unison...and she wakes suddenly with him Inside her.

@denisemarieangelina @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @daliaevans @waywardodysseys @tanyam93 @pine-fresh-kirk @star-spangled-beard-burn @lovinevans @ohmy-captain @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @jtargaryen18 @megan-meg-chrisevanswifey @patzammit @trishevans @branflakes82 @oddsnendsfanfics @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @jms358 @denissjmaddox @littlefiercequeen @mizcaptainphoenix @deidrashouseofpain @bit-of-a-timelord @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @chris-butt @captain-rogers-beard @imanuglywombat @wintrcaptn @shreyaaaaaaaaaaaa @shellbilee @whiskey-cokenfanfic @iamwhoiamtmblr @icanfeelastormbrewing @inamarvelx @gothamlovr91 @captaincrazyexlover @thatgirly81 @thatsxamericasxass @amazonx @nbarnes @captainchrisstan @kelbabyblue @kellyn1604 @katiew1973 @kailyndavillier @donutloverxo @comebackandhauntme21 @nekoannie-chan @wordywarriorwrites

#princeofdreams chrisevansfanfic #chrisevansfanfic

[clan-sayeed-fic]

Meant To Be (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3

The fic is a result of my collaboration with @lightning-fury 😄  

Please check out the previous chapter written by her, called Control

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios)

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they’re the property of Pixelberry Studios as well)

Warnings: angst, violence

Rating: Mature

Author’s note:  I’m not a native English speaker, I’m sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

So here's the thing...😅 @lightning-fury​ didn't want to read this chapter, so if I messed up the plot, she most likely kills me. With that being said, farewell, dear readers 💕

~ 2500 words

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

Chapter four: Welcome to the Clan

"I gotta say," the words were slowly breaking through thick curtains of a dream. "I don't know what the hell did you do, but you are so screwed."

Amy turned around, far away from the voice. She let out a growl and covered her whole body with a blanket, hiding under it like a rebellious teenager.

But within a second, the blanket was pulled down from her, falling straight on the floor. Amy's body curled up immediately as the sudden cold hit her skin.

"Get up, sunshine!" Lily's voice was loud, piercing into her head.

"Go," Amy turned on her belly, hiding her head under the pillow, "away!"

A short moment of silence filled the room before there was only a gust of wind left behind. And Amy shared the fate of the blanket, after hitting the floor with a loud sound.

"What is wrong with you?!" the blonde shouted, feeling a pain in all of her muscles. Both: after training, and falling from the bed.

"Me?" Lily was standing there, smiling, looking at the girl's angry face. "I don't know, something happened that you're lying on the floor?"

Amy's stare was sending threats, but she understood the message and slowly lifted herself with a loud sigh. Every inch of her body was aching.

"Woah, she really kicked your ass, didn't she?" Lily was watching her new friend closely, this time with more concern than amusement.

She didn't wait for the answer, and instead, using her vampire skills, she left the room just to come back a moment later. She was carrying some ice, which Amy could put to the most hurting places. She did it, biting her lower lip when the freezing surface touched her burning skin.

"Damn, you better heal quickly," Lily sat on her bed or more like fell on it, making the mattress lift its edges under her weight.

"I will," Amy glanced at the already faded bruises. "I doubt Sayeed would like to see me any time soon, so there's no rush."

Actually, she should be a long time healed by then. But, the way Kamilah trained her last night left a lot of injuries. Even though some of them disappeared entirely and other ones were fading away, the pain in her muscles was still intense. It felt like the vampire queen hit her under the ribcage just a second ago.

"Yeah... I think she wants to see you sooner than you'd like to," Lily stood up, making her way to the doors, sending Amy a judgemental look. "Get ready, you have a welcoming party to attend."

"What party?"

***

They were...

Actually, Amy had no idea where the hell Lily took her. That was one of those neighborhoods that parents didn't want to see their children in.

Or anywhere near it.

It was the end of the night. A moon was slowly hiding behind the horizon, still being the only light source available in this place.

All Amy was able to recognize around herself was a light shade of red, shining in the darkness. When she turned her attention back to Lily, her eyes were of the same color.

"For what reason, everyone looks like bloodsuckers?" Amy laughed at her own joke.

"Try it," Lily smiled to her, showing her white fangs.

Amy followed her advice, forcing herself to feel anger mixed with a passion that was growing inside her. Her eyes were changing into red, the color of blood slowly spreading all over her iris.

Along with it, her teeth changed into the fangs of a predator.

The experience was incredible, almost indescribable.

Amy used to think earlier that vampires' eyes change their color only when there is the perceptible smell of blood in the near distance. That it's like a subconscious reaction of their body. Like Pavlovian conditioning.

Of course, she knew that emotions had an influence on it too. For example, feeling of anger or desire. But, what she believed in was that those changes were beyond their control. And added nothing significant to their life.

At that moment, Amy was able to find out how badly she was mistaken. When her eyes went red, the surroundings around her got more clear immediately.

The view that she saw drastically changed. After her eyes shifted to crimson, she was able to see every tiny detail of the ground, despite the lack of light. Every single hair on the head of a person standing far away from her.

All of it with a faded curtain of a red shade.

"Woah, that is," Amy looked around, watching everything closely now.

"Cool, right?" Lily laughed, leading them forward.

As they walked further between other vampires, Amy felt more eyes paying attention to her, watching her steps. Whispering was growing around her. And of course, she was able to hear everything loud and clear.

"Is that the girl responsible for Liz's death?"

"Is she the one Elisabeth sacrificed her life for?"

"Poor Kamilah, it must be so hard for her to see this girl around."

A shudder of uneasiness traveled down the blonde's spine.

She would listen more to those rumors, but something got her attention. Everyone's attention to be precise.

Kamilah Sayeed was standing in the middle of the circle, which was drawn on the ground. Amy watched closer what was painted there, opening her eyes wider as she finally realized what she was looking at. Because it wasn't only a circle. It was a full sign.

The brand of Clan Sayeed.

And its leader was standing on the cross in the center of it. With the arrows piercing through the circle, pointing at her. Everyone gathered around, not daring to step on the line.

"I'm grateful to see all of you here tonight," Kamilah's voice was strong, firm. "I know that the data of a welcoming celebration might be surprising for a lot of you. Especially the elders in my clan," she looked at some individuals that sent her a smile right away.

Amy was absolutely mesmerized by the image of this woman. Kamilah was wearing one of her suits, this time it was a dark one, matching the atmosphere around them. The jacket she was wearing was buttoned, revealing a soft, shining skin beneath, without a shirt to cover it.

Amy got lost in the view, swallowing hard, and that's when Kamilah's red eyes met her own blood shaded gaze.

"I'm honored to introduce you to our newest member," Kamilah smiled, and Amy already felt suspicious. "Honey, come closer," she said, gesturing with her hand.

The girl hesitated, looking around. That's when she felt an encouraging push from Lily, causing her to step inside the circle. She made her steps toward the clan leader.

When she got close enough, Kamilah reached out to hold her by her waist. Their bodies touched, making Amy's heartbeat increase. And she was sure that everyone around was able to hear it easily. The awareness of that made her skin blush.

"Here she is," Kamilah's voice sarcastic, surprisingly cold for everyone gathered. "Sunshine of our days," the woman looked directly at Amy's eyes, and at that moment, something in Kamilah's appearance changed. Her features softened for a bit. "I saw so much potential in this girl that I simply couldn't wait any longer to make an appropriate welcoming. Like during the good old days."

The woman let go of Amy's waist, stepping aside as she suddenly felt overwhelmed by their closeness. She sent Amy one last look with her crimson eyes before stepping out of the circle, leaving the girl clueless.

Something was telling Amy that she shouldn't take a step outside of the circle. She looked at Lily that confirmed her thoughts with a small nod. But Amy saw something more in her eyes, sympathy?

That's when the blonde noticed a thin ray of sunshine appearing on the ground. Thankfully, it was still at the beginning of the circle, far away from her.

The day was waking up. The moon was almost hidden behind the horizon, while the sun was slowly rising above it.

Amy looked at the vampires gathered around to see that everyone was hidden in the shadows of the buildings. They were watching her, some of them smiling, other ones with sympathetic looks on their faces.

And there was Kamilah, belonging to none of those groups. She was staying there with an emotionless stare in her eyes like she was somewhere else with her thoughts.

At first, she was proud of herself for coming up with this plan. After Amy got into her head, god knows how the other day Kamilah felt so miserable and mad.

Not at the girl, though. She was angry at herself that the memory of Liz hit her so much.

That she cared so much and wasn't able to let go of her.

"Are you kidding me?" Amy spoke aloud, stepping back, away from the ray of light that was getting dangerously close to her.

Her voice took the clan leader out of her thoughts, making her pay attention to this stubborn newly turned vampire.

"Ah ah, better watch out," Kamilah's words echoed ironically when the back of the girl's feet touched the line.

So that was the game, to stand the sun, not leaving the circle.

"You are all sick," Amy shouted when she felt the first sun rays on her skin, burning just a little. For now.

Her brazen tone provoked Kamilah to appear in front of her in an instant. She was wholly covered in the sun. Amy looked at her with her mouth slightly opened, not believing that she was able to handle the pain without even a frown on her face.

"And you are fierce," Kamilah's eyes were still red. "A little sunburn will do you no harm. Maybe it can even help with your stubbornness."

The woman went back to the rest members of her clan, using her vampire speed. At the same time, the shadow her body created over Amy's disappeared, letting the sun reach her fully.

Amy's legs trembled right away as she fell to her knees, trying to hold back a growl of pain. Even the body parts that were covered with clothes were hurting like the material meant nothing for the sun.

Like it was piercing through it, reaching her skin, burning it.

But she wanted to stand this pain.

She needed to.

***

Amy didn't remember much more beyond her own self lying on the ground since its cold surface was the only thing giving her body peace. After the time that felt like hours, she must have passed out.

When she woke up, she found herself on the couch inside the unknown for her place. The girl lifted herself on the elbows, looking around. Slowly taking in the surroundings of the modernly decorated room.

"How are you feeling?" the sound of this voice made Amy jump on the couch, causing shivers.

She was at Kamilah's place.

"I'm um..." Amy looked at the woman sitting by the table, typing something on her laptop. "I'm ok."

Kamilah stopped her work and slowly took off the glasses, looking in the girl's direction. There was something different about the vampire queen. Her eyes weren't sending menacing looks, her whole appearance was calm as she was simply observing the girl.

"You didn't have to do this," words escaped Kamilah's lips with this unusual for Amy, soft sound. "You didn't have to prove yourself to me."

The girl was shocked, keeping the gaze of those chestnut eyes. She didn't know how to react to this new version of Kamilah that she had never seen before. The same as she didn't know how to cope with her voice, that was lacking its usual sharpness.

"Wasn't that what you expected from me?" Amy cleared her throat and looked at the skin on her hands, there was no sign of sunburn.

Kamilah closed the laptop slowly and turned her chair, facing the girl.

"It wasn't supposed to be about me," her voice was quieter like she was talking to herself. "It was about embracing the pain. Sooner or later, you have to learn how to do this."

She didn't know if she even believed in her own words. What if she really wanted to punish this girl by arranging the welcoming party in this old fashioned way.

Maybe it was her changing back into this monster she once was.

Maybe she was drowning in her madness again.

"Kamilah, about what happened after the training," Amy saw the opportunity to clarify that situation. "I didn't know what I was doing. I did nothing, to be honest."

But there was no response to her words. Just pure silence, making Amy's lack of confidence grow.

She didn't want to push the woman further, so she stood up and slowly made her way toward the doors. The ones that she just remembered being carried through before.

Why did she bring me here? Amy's voice was asking inside her head.

She walked past the desk, and that's when Kamilah spoke. Her voice became icy again.

"That's the thing... Amy," she emphasized the name, calling it like it was something poisoned.

"Excuse me?" the girl's voice quiet, she was already prepared for the next words.

"You did nothing," Kamilah stood up, her hands in fists. "Neither last night nor when Elisabeth saved you."

Amy couldn't believe her own ears. Just when she thought everything was finally going in the right direction, Kamilah was picking a fight.

"Can you even hear your own words?" Amy burst out, her head spinning. "I did nothing because I didn't know what was going on. Those ferals came out of nowhere, oh... pardon me, I didn't even know they were ferals back then!" her eyes burning red. "What could I possibly do?!"

"I don't know!" Kamilah shouted. Her chest lifting and falling quickly in a huff. "But, you are not worth her death."

Words hit straight to Amy's heart, causing the pain all over her chest.

Having those thoughts in her head all the time since the day of the attack was one thing. Hearing them from Kamilah was another.

But Amy had enough of being treated like that.

"Guess what," she spoke aloud, boldly. "We can't turn back time. So you either finally deal with her death, or..." she didn't drop the woman's gaze, "...kill me if that'll make you feel any better."

What shocked Kamilah more than those words, were the pain and guilt that she noticed in Amy's eyes. The girl was ready to give up.

That made Kamilah feel something new about this young vampire.

A sympathy.

And that certainly wasn't an emotion she wanted to feel toward Amy. So even after a moment of weakness, her next words were full of earlier sharpness.

"No, you're right," Kamilah calmed down, a sly smirk playing in the corner of her mouth. "Killing you won't make me feel any better,

but I know what will."

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

Next chapter: ch 5, Please Help written by @lightning-fury

#kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #kamilah #bb kamilah #bloodbound kamilah #bb mc #bloodbound mc #bloodbound #vampires #angst #choices fanfiction #choices stories you play #choices fic #collaboration #collaborative story #violence

[vangoddamn]

Play me a song

Part 3 - Bondy

Warning: more smut (it's gettin hot in here) cause why not?

The light streamed through, breaking me from the peace I was once in. His arm lay across my stomach and his curls sat wilder than ever over his eyes. The silence was broken by soft murmurs on his side and a small wriggle into me.

Our bodies were still obscenely bare and his skin was soft against mine, except the slight stubble that was brushing chest. I secretly didn't mind the burn. I wished we could stay like that forever and never have to face a single sole again. I knew we had three sinarios of how the day played out, one, the lads would know either by my screams or the fact Johnny would walk out of my room that morning. Two, they would be too tired to notice and we'd have to tell them, or not, but let's be honest I'm shit at lying. Or scinario three, I stay in bed all day or jump out the window.

Before I could guess, Bondy woke, kissing my cheek tenderly before pulling me into his arms. My stomach crumbled completely with every touch and sleepy look he gave me from beneath his lashes.

"hiya" I smiled into his chest breathing his scent in and wrapping my arms around him.

"how about a bath?" His whisper was croaky and needy, and how I wanted to soothe it. It was quite early no later than 7:00 and I wondered how long I could stay with him before we had to face the rest of the house.

"I'd love one!" With that I leept up to go to run the bath forgetting my nakedness, feeling a blush coat my face when he chuckled and smacked my ass when I walked past, trying to repress my giggle.

The bathroom was fully stocked with bubble bars and bombs, something I thought Van had something to do with. I made quick work of filling the bath with hot bubbly water that looked almost magical. Calling Johnny I slipped into the dreamy suds, acclimatising to the heat.

"what a sight" he smirked before slipping in too, with which I could've returned the comment.

Once he had settled I moved so that I lay on his chest, arms wrapped around me, playing with my fingers as they intertwined.

"I could get used to this" he sighed, making my heart stop for a fraction. I really hadn't been thinking, forgetting that for him he may not want to be anything more than friends and that I may just be another floozy to have around.

I bit my lip down hard thinking wether or not to ask or just leave it be. But he sensed my tensed by and moved my face with his fingers so that I looked at him.

"what's wrong sugar?" He seemed sad with my state.

I contemplated not answering, but that would be near impossible looking into his eyes like that. "What's going to happen, you know, when we see the lids.... or even after recording?"

His expression changes into something I could only describe as releived as he tucked me under his arms again stroking my sides with his hands. "I guess it'll be normal, except you'll finally be mine" with that a thousand butterflies erupted in my stomach and I had to fight hard not to jump a little with excitement.

I turned, so I was straddling him, leaning my forehead on his. "You best not be joking with me Jonathan Bond!" I stared deep into him hoping that he wouldn't falter.

"I'd never"

His words were soft and unexpected, although it was short he laced them with so much meaning I couldn't help but lean in for a much needed kiss. I relaxed once his hands rested on my hips and our tongues met within our messy kiss. I didn't realise that I was rocking my hips against him making him moan with the friction between us.

"fuck" I groaned, before I knew it he had lifted me out of the water and laying me down onto the bed. But unlike the night before I was already craving every inch of his body to be as close as possible to mine.

I rolled on top, kissing all the way down to his torso, and then to his member which was already to attention. I licked a clean swipe from the base and lowered my mouth down so he was at the back of my throat and almost gagging. His fingers found my hair soon after, noticing the pre cum I slowly retracted back to my spot on his hips.

"your fucking perfect" his murmurs in my ear was enough to make myself lower onto him, for the second time filling me up taking my breath away. I could every ridge and bump as he filled all my senses. I could smell the residue of the bath and his sweat on his skin from our passion, and I could feel his soft slightly damp skin. My arms reached either side of his head grasping onto his tangled hair.

"god.." I moaned in his ear, kissing into the crook of his neck whilst his hands roamed my frame, one hand attaching to my breast massaging tenderly and the other on my hip, easing a groan from me.

His hand left my chest gohsting over a mark on my neck he'd left last night. "This is so sexy" he whispered, leaning in to kiss me open mouthed and breathy again, whilst each thrust became deeper and found your spot. His hand now trailed down rubbing my clit, helping me along, as if he wasn't helping enough.

I straightened my body and let my hands run down his body, taking in every inch that I'd missed before. The closeness between us was intoxicating and I felt like I was in pure bliss.

Every moan and cry brought us nearer but I clung on not letting either one of us go, wanting it to last longer. That was until I heard a creek outside and my eyes widened stopping my movements instantly.

"shh, it's alright" Bondy whispered, pulling my head down to gently kiss him again. I slowly started my rytham against him again trying to forget about the possibility of being heard.

Our pace was quickly brought back up to speed and it wasn't long until his hips were rutting against mine and it was more of a struggle not to call out his name and the top of my lungs.

"fuck, when I get us alone.....I'll scream so loud-" I tried to speak but my words got cut short by an orgasm so intense it muted me for a second causing me to have to muffle my whimpers in his chest.

"come on doll, finish for me" his pleads were breathy and it drifted across my cheek. I carried on rising him bringing him to his high and riding us both out.

I could feel him fill me and he let a deep sigh after his release, allowing my to flop into his arms, still in top of him. The tiredness that overcame me made me want to be in his arms forever.

"I'm so glad I'm yours" I sighed before he slide out, kissing my nose.

"I'm glad too" he smiled back, walking to collect a pair of underwear and PJ's for me to slip into before breakfast. "Now I'm starving" he smiled into a kiss pulling me to get dressed.

To say I was nervous was and understatement, the teasing that would come would be unbearable and I was scared to say the least. After Johnny found some clothes from his room, we wandered down to the kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed but as soon as the others caught glimpse of me a sly smile was apparent on each of their faces.

"someone got some last night" Van teased first, testing the water, ultimately causing a red hughe to be painted on my face. Weirdly Johnny was calm as ever making toast for the both of us, refilling his depleted stamina.

"shut up Van" I groaned punching his arms.

"y/n, I'd stick up for ya I would but, god you do scream" Larry piped up behind me embarrassing me even more.

"sorry, but if I'm not mistaken, she's the only one out of yous who's gettin some other than Benji." Bob chuckled leaning into my side sympathising.

If that didn't shut them up it was how all Johnny did was smirk at the lads and bring me to sit in his lap on one of the sofas the lads were already sat on. It was like normal, our close proximity, but this time he kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear.

"I'm never getting sick of this" arms wrapping tighter around my body I relaxed and forgot about the rest of the world and focused on his breathing and the way he caressed my skin.

<<<<part 2

A/n: lol they really do be cute though. Don't we all wish we had a Bondy in our lives?! Anyway hope you enjoyed my lovelies xx Em

#bondy smut #bondy x reader #bondy #johnny bond #catfish and the bottlemen #catb #catfish #van mccann #larry lau #smut

[howrry]

swing for the fences

a/n: “i’m writing a 5/1 story!” five seconds later: here’s a piece that has nothing to do with that!! not even sorry, one direction never kept their promises so why should i ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ besides i like this work way more than the 5/1 tbh, so here’s a fwb piece i’ve had unfinished for weeks now, pls enjoy

w/c: 3.0k

warnings: smutsmutsmut bitch

***

Harry figured out he really liked Y/N while standing in line at a sandwich shop.

It was sudden and unceremonial, compared to the cute stories that go like "oh I fell in love with my husband when we stared deeply into each other's eyes" or "I realized I loved her when she helped me in my time of need" that you can find on Reddit. No, Harry had to have his epiphany while staring at sliced banana peppers.

While the young boy behind the counter was loading his sandwich into the toaster, Harry peered over the glass and thought about what veggies he wanted. Spinach and tomatoes, of course, maybe some jalapeños, and so on. He remembered that he'd be seeing his friend Y/N later that day and knew that if she saw his food, she'd want a bite. While he was an avid hater of the aforementioned banana peppers, they were Y/N's favorite, and he pondered over getting some so that she'd enjoy her bite out of his sandwich more.

You like her. The thought hit him like a train. Normally he wouldn't let anybody else so much as breathe towards his food, yet he was considering ruining his entire sandwich just so that Y/N could enjoy a single bite out of it. Because he liked her.

The realization knocked the wind out of him. When the employee asked what he wanted on his sub, he stumbled over his words and by the time he paid and left the store, he doesn't even remember if he got the damn peppers or not.

This was a problem. See, Harry and Y/N had a great thing going on—what one would call friends with benefits. They hung out together, saw movies, ate breakfast and other friendly activities by day, and by night he was guaranteed to be burying himself in her. No romance, no attachments, nothing. Perfect!

Except, well, not anymore. What was he going to do? The two of them had always prided themselves on being able to separate feelings from sex; sometimes you just needed to get your rocks off, and having that option always at arm's length was incredibly convenient. Now that he'd discovered he might have more feelings than he thought he did, there was no foreseeable way for this to be resolved without at least one of them getting hurt.

So he tried to ignore it.

***

Y/N knocked on his door later that day, despite having a key to his house and using it to let herself in. “Haz!” she called, and he emerged from the kitchen, wiping the avocado ranch from the corner of his mouth. He stiffened a bit when she gave him a chaste hug, but she didn’t seem to notice.

They went to the kitchen together, where she noted the remains of the sandwich on his table. “Thanks for getting me something, cuck,” she whined, gesturing towards his leftovers.

“You can have the rest, yeh big baby!” he said as if he hadn’t intended to give it to her the whole time.

She squealed in delight, taking a massive bite and then talking without swallowing first. “Hey, I love banana peppers! Thanks!”

“Don’t talk with your food in your mouth,” he chastised, ignoring her comment.

The remainder of the evening went like it normally would. They chatted about their days (Harry leaving out his big discovery, of course), started their journey catching up on Stranger Things, and ended up necking on his couch. When she ghosted her lips across his skin to go for a real kiss, though, he dove to avoid it and bit at her earlobe instead. He whispered that the two of them should go to his room and, as far as he knew, she didn’t even notice he’d avoided one of the simplest parts of sex.

When they didend up sleeping together, he tried to make it as distant and impersonal as possible. He didn’t attach his mouth to hers even once and skipped out on foreplay once he’d undressed her, merely checking if she was wet enough with his fingers (she was, always so damn pliant) before stuffing his cock into her from behind. He ended up having a below-average orgasm way too quickly and even felt guilty enough to work backwards and get her off with his hands.

Once they were done, she made a lighthearted joke about him being in a rush judging by the mediocre sex. Harry didn’t really react to this, and she was so uncomfortable she let herself out. She normally spent the night.

So there Harry was, lying in his cold bed by himself, arms tucked behind his head and staring at the ceiling. He felt awful. His new tactic clearly didn’t work and it’d unsettled the one girl he liked.

Time to switch game plans, he guessed.

***

That morning, the first thing he did was shoot Y/N an apologetic text saying he’d felt tired and wasn’t able to give a grade-A performance (even though, uh, hello, he was the one who initiated sex, but whatever). She forgave him instantly, which made his stomach knot. Why did she have to be so compassionate and forgiving? Why was she such a great person?

Throughout the next few weeks, he decided to change up his attitude in the bedroom. Being her friend wouldn’t change regardless of how he felt about her, so he acted the complete same from day to day, but things were different at night.

It was a complete 180 from what he'd tried before. He originally attempted to dodge kissing, now he pressed his lips to hers with a fervor that he hadn't felt in years. He used to like taking her from behind and pushing her head down into the pillows, now he was fucking her missionary, snaking an arm around the small of her back so that as much of her skin was against his as possible. Now he was letting her sit in his lap, his cock nestled in her and nails dragging down the soft skin of her back. Now he was going down on her for hours, licking and eating like she was an oasis in a desert. He used to pull out before he came and paint either her ass or her face, now he chose to finish inside of her, marking her as his from the inside. He fucked her, well, like he loved her.

Y/N didn't seem to catch onto this rollercoaster of changes that Harry was putting her through, or if she did, she didn't mention it. She was always good at matching his energy in the bedroom, no matter how rough or how tender (which didn’t bode well for his soft heart). It’d be one thing if she questioned this new behavior, but everything he gave her, she gave right back. Every burning kiss, every hair pull, every bite and thrust and moan was reciprocated—if not topped in intensity. Again, not so good for his already-growing feelings.

After one particularly long and hot-blooded round, Harry decided to ask how she really felt. He lay in bed, panting from his orgasm just moments before, when Y/N returned from a quick bathroom break. Now or never, he thought.

"Hey, Y/N?" he asked, voice cracking at the dehydration. He sat up in bed, sheets bunching up around his lap.

She waved a hand at him, picking up her pants and forcing her legs into them. "I know, I know, I'm leaving. I don't wanna run into your round two on my way out," she winked, continuing to pull her jeans up her thighs.

"No!" he blurted. Round two? What the hell was she talking about? Did she really think that he had someone elsecoming over after that mind-blowing, passionate sex? "What? No. I just—"

"I'm kidding, Harry," she deadpanned, stopping him. "But seriously, I do have to go. I'll catch you tomorrow?" The tail end of her sentence kicked up, even though both of them knew she'd be back. "Text you when I get home!" She slammed the door behind her, and Harry sat with his jaw in his lap.

He didn't even get a text.

***

Harry hated bars.

He didn’t even know why he went. Well, that was a lie. Any chance to spend time with Y/N he jumped on, even if it was with their mutual friends at a dingy club.

At this point in the evening, he was pretty sauced. He’d long since lost track of the whole friend group, and chose to relax at the bar where even the bartender lost track of how many pints he’d had in the evening.

He spotted her on the other side of the U-shaped bar, chatting up a strikingly attractive fella with loose blonde hair and beaming white teeth. You know, nothing like Harry.

He felt sick. There was no stated monogamy between them and she owed him no loyalty, but for the past few months they’d damn near spent every waking moment together. There wasn’t even any time for her to be with someone else. But now, everything was fair game and she was clearly taking the chance presented to her.

Fuck it. He downed what was left in his glass, threw enough money on the bar to cover his drinks and a tip, and marched over to the duo.

“Oh hi!” Y/N gushed when she made eye contact. “Caleb, this is my friend Harry. Harry, this is Caleb.”

So. His name was Caleb. Up close, he was even more immaculate. His skin was as clear as the sky, he had the bone structure of a sculpture, and despite his blonde hair, his eyelashes were thick and dark. His manners were clearly up to par as well, since he politely extended a hand and flashed a smile at Harry. When he merely stared down at his hand, Caleb awkwardly pulled back.

“Nice to meet you, Harry. Y/N was just telling me about her recent trip to the Grand Canyon. I can’t imagine hiking in that weather, you’re quite brave.” That last part was more directed at her, and the attention made her giggle.

“Actually, I went with her on that trip,” Harry noted, both of their gazes snapping to him. “The weather was quite pleasant given the time of year. We didn’t even mind the heat when we fucked in the tent two nights in.”

“What the fuck?” Y/N blurted. Her face turned bright red, showing through even under her makeup, and his comment even got the attention of nearby patrons. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered to a shocked Caleb before grabbing Harry’s hand and yanking him to the back hallway of the bar.

Once out of the range of the booming music, she stopped and attempted to push him against the brick wall behind him, failing due to his size. “Harry, you need tostop,” she reprimanded.

“Stop wha’?” he slurred, genuinely curious about what she meant. Stop drinking, stop feeling so sorry for himself, stop loving her?

“Stop making a scene. What’s the matterwith you?” Her arms folded over her chest, enhancing her rack in her dress but Harry was too far gone to appreciate it.

“I don’ like him,” he huffed.

“That’s ridiculous,” her eyes cut into slits. “You met him 45 seconds ago, and I don’t get uppity about your bitches!”

“Haven’t slept with someone else since you,” he confessed. “Haven’ even looked at anyone else the same since I first touched you,” he purred, taking a step towards her.

She stepped back, hitting the wall behind her. “What?”

Fuck it, he was drunk. He wouldn’t even remember this in the morning. “The second I put my hands on your body, and tasted you, and saw what you look like when I make you cum on my cock, I saw the whole world differently. Reckon I love yeh,” he finished his dirty secret with a nervous laugh, somewhat cutting the meaning of his words.

For a few moments of heavy silence, he thought she was going to reciprocate his admission. There was a tiny glint in her eyes that made him think she felt the same and he opened his mouth to dig himself deeper into his hole but she stopped him.

Something washed over her face and she suddenly looked very uncomfortable. Y/N pursed her lips and brought a hand up to awkwardly scratch at her elbow. “I shouldn’t have let you have that last beer.” It was a joke, obviously, since she hadn’t been around him since his first drink of the night, but he didn’t laugh. “Let’s get you a water and take you home so you can get some sleep.” Harry couldn’t even protest before she grabbed his arm and tugged him back through the bustling dance floor and out the front door. He never even got his water.

To say that Harry was devastated was the understatement of the millennia. He’d just poured his heart out to the girl who had occupied his every thought for the past few weeks and she breezed over it like it was nothing. He didn’t speak another word to her for the rest of the night, barring a dazed “thank you” when she helped him up the stairs in his home and got him into bed. Once he was relatively comfortable, she let herself out without saying anything.

Well, that was it. He shot his shot, swung for the fences, and missed. If a truth bomb like that wasn’t enough for Y/N, nothing would be. As he laid in bed, head swimming and the stationary fan seemingly spinning above him, he knew his relationship with her was over.

He had to drag himself out of bed and into the bathroom to throw up, and he knew full heartedly that it had nothing to do with the alcohol.

***

Harry had never been a “show up at a girl’s door” kind of guy, especially if he was about to break up with her. Or, whatever he was about to do. Can you break up with someone you never dated?

However, he knew this was something that had to be done in person. His stomach was in a painful knot from the moment he woke up and didn’t subside during the drive to her apartment nor while walking up to her door or rapping it with his knuckles. It especially didn’t get any better when she swung the door open and was clearly happy to see him, smiling bigger than the sun. Clearly, she was ready to forget about last night and move the fuck on.

She let him in and briefly apologized for still being in pajamas, blaming it on laundry day. “When I have a coherent outfit that’s clean, wanna go see the new Spider-man movie?” she asked, leading him to her living room.

Her question was so innocuous, his stomach got even worse. “Actually, there’s something I wanna talk to you about.”

This made her stop in her tracks, her bubbly persona fading away. He knew damn well she hated those kind of ominous sentences, that they gave her anxiety. “Is everything okay, H?”

He inhaled through his nose sharply, blinking to make sure he wasn't tearing up. "I think we need t'stop seeing each other. Like, even as friends." It came out in one breath, like if he didn't, he knows he would've stumbled over it.

To his shock, Y/N's face paled. "W-what? H... why?" she was starting to even tremble.

"I'm gettin' too fuckin' attached, okay?" he blurted. No going back now, he guessed. "Whatever's going on between us clearly means nothing to you and I can't keep pretending like I'm fine with it. I can’t keep acting like everything is okay when it’s not.

His explanation made her jaw pop open. "Wait, you were serious? When you confessed your feelings?"

Harry's head reared back. "What? Of course I was serious! Why wouldn't I have been?"

She shrugged, choosing to stare at the floor rather than make eye contact. "I don’t know. You were drunk, I-I thought it was some kind of ploy. You've been acting kind of weird lately and I didn't know what you were planning. I got scared so I tried to be more chill about... us."

He blinked. “Well, now yeh know. It wasn’t a ploy, or a drunken mistake. I’m serious when I say that I love yeh, and if yeh don’t feel the same way, tell me now so I can walk the fuck out.” His head dropped down to his folded hands, staring down at the cross tattoo.

Her face turned pink at his profanity. He very rarely swore around her except in the bedroom, so the severity of the situation weighed on her. “Of course I love you,” she admitted, just barely over a whisper.

His head snapped up. “What?”

“Harry, you’re one of the best guys I’ve ever met. You treat me so well, I don’t even understand it myself. I mean, you hatebanana peppers, for God’s sake!” She laughed, and Harry’s stomach unknotted for the first time in 48 hours.

“What?” he repeated, her confession not quite sinking in.

“Are you a broken record? I said I love you! Is that not what you want?”

“I—no, it is! I’m just in shock! I’ve been through a lot since last night, okay?”

She dropped down on the couch next to him and threw her arms around him, and he instinctively wrapped his hands around her biceps. “So, what now?” she asked, pulling away and looking at him with doe eyes.

“Well, you’re m’girlfriend now, I reckon,” he smirked. “Is that alright with you?”

“Yes! Of course, you dummy.” The seemingly unwaivering smile on her face was replaced with a mischievous look. “Now that we’re dating, you have to help me with stuff that you didn’t before.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What do y’mean?”

She stood up from the couch and grabbed his arm, dragging him down the hallway. “I have laundry to fold, and the faster it’s done, the sooner we can see Jake Gyllenhaal kicking Spider-man’s ass!”

And to be honest? He couldn’t complain, not one bit.

#Harry Styles #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles one shot #permanentcross #harryforvogue #haroldloverboy #jawllines #inwhichitrytowritesomething