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#we’ll dream of a longer summer
hopestillcontinues · 7 days ago
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joandidionluvr · 15 days ago
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by Jane Kenyon.
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havecourage-darling · 27 days ago
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Right to the bone
prompt: “you’re still my emergency contact and i’ve been in an accident so you drop everything to come to the hospital”
pairing: Eddie Munson x Adopter! Hopper Female Reader
wc: 13K (I don't know what happened.)
warnings: cursing, canon hopper temporary death, grief, lovers to exes to ???, hurt/comfort kinda, non canon compliant, post-s4V2, our boy lives
PART TWO
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Masterlist || AO3
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Something was pulling at you from the blissful sleep you’d fallen into a few hours ago. Opening and eye, you groaned and fumbled for the phone. Whoever was calling better be dying or in dire need of your help or you were going snap their necks.
“Hello?” You answered groggily.
“Hi! I’m calling from Hawkins Hospital – is this Ms. Hopper?”
What? Hawkins? “Yes, that’s me.”
“You were listed as the emergency contact for Edward Munson?”
At that, you blinked. Were you dreaming? You thought back to your earlier words and winced. You hadn’t meant that literally.
“Miss?”
“Yes,” you croaked, clearing your throat, “I-I’m sorry. Was he in an accident?”
The hesitation on the other end of the phone made your stomach churn. “He was brought in a few hours ago. After the earthquake we are doing the best we can, but-”
“Earthquake?” You shot up, blanket falling to your waist.
“Yes? There was an earthquake last night. I apologize for the hour.”
Swallowing, you clenched the blanket to your chest. “Is he – is he…” You couldn’t say the words. They were stuck in your dry throat, impossible.
“He’s alive,” she said.
The air in your lungs swooped out, leaving you feeling like a deflated balloon.
“But,” the voice started.
But? But what?
“It’s urgent you make your way here. We are unable to locate his next of kin. Would that be you?”
“No, uh, he lives with his Uncle Wayne. I’m in Wisconsin,” you said, realizing.
“Oh,” she said quietly. “If you would like to come see him, I recommend you try and get here as quick as possible.”
“Is he – please, is he critical?”
“You can speak with a doctor when you arrive.”
Shit.
“I’ll be there,” you promised, already hopping off your bed. “It’ll take me a few hours but I’ll be there. Don’t, please – don’t let anything happen to him.”
“We’ll try our best,” she said before clicking off.
Earthquake? You glanced at your closet and frowned. The walkie sat, unused and collecting dust, at the back of your wardrobe. You had made everyone promise, after your father was killed – you wanted nothing to do with Hawkins and its ability to kill all the good people in it. Every single nerve in your body missed them – because of course you had but, it hurt to be in that town. It hurt to remember.
“Fuck me,” you hissed, hastily packing your bag and grabbing the walkie on the way to your car. Glancing at your watch, you realized how late it was. If you were lucky and there was no traffic, you’d be able to make it to Hawkins by sunrise.
When you stopped for gas just outside the city, you called your sister. If something had happened in Hawkins you were sure it wasn’t something as easy as a natural disaster. You’d spoken to El a few days ago, she was excited to have Mike visit for spring break. She’d been sad when you told her you couldn’t afford to visit – your job having denied your vacation request – but you’d save to be able to visit in the summer. California sounded like it was going well for her.
“The number you have reached is not in service,” the operator notified you. The invisible hand inside your stomach reached up and clamped onto your throat. Squeezing, once again, until you felt you could no longer breathe.
The yellow, flickering, lamp above you gave out – leaving you in darkness. Slamming the phone down, you quickly made your way back to your car. You’d learned long ago to be afraid of faulty lights and the creatures that awaited in the dark.
With hesitance, you glanced over at the walkie from where it laid in the passenger seat. It was charged, because while you wanted to forget – you weren’t stupid. Your father had taught you better than that.
For the first time, in almost a year, you turn it on. Your finger turns the dials onto the right channels and you press the worn button down. “Dustin, do you copy?”
There static silence was oppressive. It filled your car with a sense of dread and the shattered pieces of your heart slammed against your ribcage.
“Henderson! Do you copy?” You tried a second time, voice louder and desperate even to your ears.
Fuck. You dropped your forehead to your steering wheel and dropped the walkie back onto the seat.
Take a deep breath sweetheart, your dad’s voice swam through your head, ever your conscience. You can do anything you want to. Just take a deep breath, count to ten, and let go.
“Okay,” you told the ghost in your head, “okay, dad.”
Turning the key in the ignition, you felt it come alive under your hands. Fear swirling in your stomach, and apprehension in your shoulders, you took a deep breath. You closed your eyes and counted to ten.
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Your car hadn’t originally been yours. Or it would’ve been had your dad lived long enough to fix it up for you. It had been his father’s – your grandfather’s. It sat in a garage, hidden away from your wandering eyes, while he tried to fix it up to give it to you as a graduation gift. Jonathan had helped you finish what he started; he hadn’t had much left to go.
It was an older car, that needed constant checking in on, and with enough miles to seem faintly worrisome but it was yours. It was the only thing that had seen you through your grief the days after Starcourt. El had managed to take a ride in it that summer before leaving for California – you’d both cried the entire time.
You weren’t sure if the car smelled like cigarettes or you desperately wanted them to. There was a carton in the glove box, familiar ones that you lit up on occasion so the scent could sink into your clothes. The memories of him laughing in his cruiser swirled around you like smoke, something you could see but weren’t allowed to touch.
The dark sky started to lighten the closer you got. By hour three, the sun was peeking at you from the horizon. It seemed that, it too, was surprised to see you make your way back to the one place you vowed to never return. By the time you were a few miles out, the hand inside you tightened its hold on you.
It’s just a town. It couldn’t hurt you.  
Welcome to Hawkins!
The sign flashed as you passed it, the yellow font mocking almost. As if testing you, the first memory clawed its way up to the front of your mind. 
“Watch over your sister, okay? Be safe. Don’t do anything stupid,” your dad said, his mustache tickling your skin when he kissed your forehead. “I love you kid.”
“More than the moon?” You asked, fear rolling off you like waves.
Your dad smiled, his tired eyes and Hawaiian print shirt making you smile back. “More than the stars, the moon, and the universe combined.”
“See you soon?” You asked, desperately needing to hear him say the words.
With a last tight hug, he nodded into your head. “See you soon.”
You tightened your grip on the wheel and clenched your teeth. One, two, three, four… at ten you heaved another deep breath and felt the hand loosen its death grip.
As you hit the center of town, you saw signs of its inhabitants awaking. Another, equally familiar, vine snuck up on you. Driving past a familiar diner, you felt the second physical blow.
“I’ll love you forever, you know?” Eddie said, eyes twinkling like they knew something you didn’t.
“Forever?” You asked. “That’s a long time.”
“Not enough, Hop’, not nearly long enough,” he said, eyes darting down to your lips.
You smiled, flustered, as he trailed a hand down your arm. “I love you too,” you said quietly, like it was a secret you wanted to keep safe.
Eddie’s answering smile was blinding. It reminded you of a sunrise, the sunbeams chasing away the darkness out of every corner, a protection almost. A safe haven that came in the form of Metallica, electric guitars, silver rings, and a gentle patience that you’d never seen before.
“Yeah?” He asked, bravado dropping for once.
Watching him reach for your fingers slowly, you let him intertwine them. He felt like a comfort you’d never known before and he tasted like pancakes and maple syrup. You’d love him forever too.
“Deep breaths,” you reminded yourself, “deep breaths.”
You could see some mild damage to some of the houses the closer east you got. Turning left at the supermarket, you stopped at the sight of road blocks. Pulling over to the left, you stood from your car and gasped. The ground a few yards in front of you was cracked, as if caught mid-yawn, and the trees were all uprooted. It went on as far as you could see, tinged in the warm light of the awakening sun.
“I told you people, no reporters! We’re still double checking that everything is safe, don’t your kind understand that?” An authoritative voice boomed.
Whirling around, your hair got caught in the warm breeze, sticking to your cheeks.
“Powell?” You breathed; your voice rusty from your worried silence on the drive over. Clearing your throat, you watched as the man you’d known growing up in this town walked over and pulled you into a tight hug.
“Thank God,” he whispered. “You’re alright.”
“What…what happened here?” You asked him, not sure you wanted to know the answer.
Powell shook his head. “It’s been a hell of a week and it’s only Monday squirt.” The nickname hit like a blow to your solar plexus. Blinking back your tears you nodded as he described the earthquake that had hit a little over a day ago.
Murders. Earthquake. A lot of people injured. Only a handful of casualties. “It could’ve been worse, we’re glad it didn’t take too many houses in its path of destruction. Mostly old warehouses and it’s got a crater in the middle of Lover’s Lake that’s going to be a pain in my ass today.”
Your quiet throughout his retelling, sure of the fact that the town would rally. You knew, though, you knew it was bigger than that.
“Where were you headed?” He asked eventually, eyeing your car.
Not sure how much of your cards to show, you motioned down the closed road. “Was taking a shortcut to the hospital.”
His eyebrows flew up. “The hospital?” He eyed you, his gaze unintrusive but observant. The same way your dad used to do it. “You’re going to see the Munson boy.”
Without answering, you took a few steps back towards your car. “It was nice to see you Powell.”
“Be careful with him,” Powell said, freezing you in your tracks, “he’s been through…a lot these past few days. I’m…I hope he makes it.”
Not sure how much more you can take; you wave a hand in the air. “Don’t…don’t tell anyone you saw me, not yet, please?” Powell smiled sadly but you knew he understood. If anything, he might have understood the best out of everyone.
“Anything for you, Hopper,” he said, your last name sounding a little unsteady in the cool morning air. “Drive safe.”
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“I’m here to see a patient.” You said to the receptionist, a woman you didn’t recognize. Her face was round, her eyes a soft blue. The blonde in her hair was dulled under the fluorescent lights but her smile was bright.
“Name?”
“Eddie Munson.”
She stilled, eyes darting back up to yours. “Visiting hours aren’t until this afternoon. You’re not a reporter, are you? I can have security here in two seconds.”
Wringing your hands, you gazed over her shoulder, towards the empty hall behind her. “I – I’m his emergency contact? I got a call last night – or earlier this morning? I drove all night to get here.”
Her defensive look softened at your stumbled words.
“Ms. Hopper?”
You nodded, pulling the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your knuckles. You knew how this went, family only. The rules were rules and you no longer had any pull in this town. Hiking your bag up higher on your shoulder, you made a decision. “I’m his fiancé. His next of kin is his uncle Wayne but, I drove straight here when I heard the news.”
The woman’s expression softened even further. “Okay honey, just give me some ID so I can get you a pass and sign you in so no one asks again.” As you waited for her to print out your pass, you rocked back onto your heels, a nervous habit you’d failed to break.
“The town will stop harassing him with time,” the nurse said, eyes knowing.
What?
“There are a lot of close-minded folk in this town, but ever since his name was cleared and word got around that he tried to save that girl’s life – the tide’s been turnin’ honey. Don’t worry.” She sighed, passing you your ID and visitor’s pass. “I just can’t believe that Carver boy was the root of all this. Oh, I’m just taking up your time, I’m sorry. He’s down the hall room 501 to your left.”
“Thank you,” you said quietly, head swimming. Carver? Jason Carver?
Her soft voice floated over to you. “You should talk to him honey. I reckon he’d be happy to hear your voice. Press the button if you need anything.”
Nodding, you pulled your bag’s strap tighter around your fist and stood before room 501.
Take a deep breath. Count to ten. Let go.
With bravery you didn’t feel, you turned the knob and felt your legs almost give out from under you.
“Oh, Eddie,” you sighed, walking over to his bedside. The entirety of his neck and arms were bandaged, his face had bruising and scratches by his jaw. You sank into the chair that was closest to him and fought the tears that wanted to make themselves known. “Sweetheart, what’ve you gotten yourself into?”
If you’d suspected that this had something to do with the upside down before, his injuries confirmed it. You needed to call El when you got the chance – somehow, you hoped that California was far enough that she wouldn’t be affected. It felt wrong, in some way, to reach out and touch the only unbruised part of him – but you couldn’t help it. It’d been so long since you last saw him, you hated that he’d fallen into this.
Your fingers danced lightly across his cheekbone, wishing you could will his injuries away, and before you could stop yourself, you pressed a kiss to his temple.
“Ms. Hopper?” A voice called out tentatively. Whirling around, heart pounding, you relaxed minutely when you saw a tall woman in a white coat.
“Hi,” you breathed, “yes, I’m sorry you startled me.”
“My apologies,” she said, closing the door behind him. “I’m Mr. Munson’s primary doctor, can I confirm what your relationship is with the patient?”
The guilt threatened to choke you but if they hadn’t found Wayne, you couldn’t leave him here, not alone. “I’m his fiancé. The hospital called me because he had me listed as his emergency contact.”
She nodded, satisfied, and pulled out a chart from under her arm. “Well, Ms. Hopper, Eddie was very, very lucky to have been brought in when he was.”
Your chest tightened. The doctor went through all of his injuries, deep lacerations, bruising, a concussion, and a broken ankle.
“It says here that he was brought in by a-” she flipped through the folder, “-Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler?”
The last, delusional, pieces of hope that were clinging to the hope that this was just a normal injury, disappeared. “Yeah, they’re our friends.”
“They say he was hurt in the earthquake,” the doctor was clearly skeptical about that explanation but you weren’t surprised. You knew a cover up when you saw one.
“When will he wake up?” You asked instead.
With a frown, she turned to Eddie. “We gave him a lot of pain medication post-surgery, so it’s really up to him. It’s been twenty-four hours and he should wake up anytime now. The process can be gradual so please do not become alarmed if you see movement from him before falling back asleep. It’s completely normal. I’ll be here for the night, should you need me or have any questions please let one of the nurses know.”
A beat later, you nodded, and she sighed. Leaving without another word, you slumped back into the chair and pinched the bridge of your nose. “What the hell happened?” You asked Eddie, not expecting an answer. “The gate was closed, we killed it, El – everyone, we lost so much to make sure it was gone. What happened?”
Moving your backpack to the floor, you reached for Eddie’s hand and brought it up to your cheek. His pulse pounded steadily, the machines confirming to you that he was alive and breathing, and you started to cry.
It wasn’t fair. How much more did this town need to take from you before there was nothing left? You dropped your head to the bed, tears dropping to the white, scratchy, fabric, and you closed your eyes.
He was okay. Eddie might not love you anymore, he might not want you by his side, but he was alive and that was enough for you. You needed to try and find someone, Wayne or Steve – you had to find out what had happened. Maybe one of the nurses had a phone book you could look through.
With a jaw cracking yawn, you let the warmth of Eddie’s hand and the steady beeping of the machines, poke at your exhaustion until you were lulled to sleep.
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Blinking your eyes open, you smacked your lips – throat dry. Stretching as you sat up, you felt your spine crack satisfyingly as you readjusted. The sun was higher up in the sky and the clock let you know you’d slept for less than an hour but you felt refreshed.
“Good morning, Firecracker,” a hoarse voice said, the hand in yours twitching.
Startled beyond all measure, you squeaked, standing and wincing at the screeching sound the chair made.
“Eddie?” You stammered. “Eddie, do you remember what happened to you?”
His bruised face twisted into something confused. “Not really. I woke up a few minutes ago and you were sleeping here. Why are we in the hospital?”
You opened your mouth but your voice got stuck in your throat. What had happened? Why was he looking at you like that?
“I’m not sure,” you said honestly, “the doctor says you got here just in time. I know you said you didn’t want to see me again-”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed and he tried to shift but groaned. “What are you talking about? Were we in a car crash?” His eyes took you in. “You look okay. How’s my car?”
What?
“Eddie?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
Blinking.
“What’s…the last thing you remember?”
Eddie frowned, his eyes becoming unfocused and then he shot you a stupidly ridiculous smile that had no right to make your stomach flutter the way it did. “I was showing you the song I wrote…we were in my room, rushing to get you home before curfew,” he wiggled his brows, despite his confusion, and your heart dropped to your feet, “that was your fault.”
Forgetting yourself for a moment, you realized you knew what he was talking about. Your throat closed, folding in on itself. That had been…more than a year ago, in the winter of your senior year.
You grinned as Eddie put down his guitar and turned to look at you, eyes nervous. “So? What do you think?”
Pretending to think it over, you laughed and launched yourself at him. Eddie caught you, because he always did, and fell back onto his bed. His puff of laughter fanned over your skin, his eyes lighting up. “That bad huh?”
“It’s amazing!” You said, straddling him. “It sounds great, are you going to play it at the Hideout?”
Eddie nodded. “We’re not suppose to play original music but Gareth thinks we should just go for it.”
“Definitely,” you said, “I’m going to ask Steve for his video recorder. It’ll be the first time Corroded Coffin performs to a live audience their original music.”
“To about ten people and my girlfriend,” he said, rolling his eyes, but expression pleased. You knew he was nervous and didn’t want to let anyone know but you knew him too well to fool.
“Everyone starts somewhere,” you insisted, “you’re good, Eddie. I know this is just the beginning for you guys.”
His eyes softened, and your heart skipped. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you said, “so much, you have no idea,”
“Yeah?”
You loved how no matter how many times you said it, it always made him light up. “Yeah, Munson.”
“God, you’re amazing,” Eddie flipped you both so he was hovering above you.
Laughing, you wiggled beneath him, grinning when you hear him groan. “Careful there, Munson, I might get an ego.”
“Shit, and it already almost doesn’t fit into this trailer, can’t have it getting bigger,” he murmured, nipping at your neck. “You’ve got curfew in an hour.”
“Mhmm,” you sighed, pulling his hips down sharply to yours. Both of you hissed at the sudden pressure, your hand already fumbling with your waistband.
“Sweetheart, your father already hates me,” Eddie reminded you, not stopping you from yanking his shirt off.
You laughed at his interested expression. “It’s been three years, you’re growing on him,” you said, knowing it was partially true.
“I’m sure,” he grunted as you flung your shirt off. His mouth immediately fell to the swell of your breast, lapping at the fading bruise he’d left behind this morning. “Do you think it’s normal?”
“What?” You said, squirming, when he stilled.
“Being this in love with someone?” He asked, surprising you with his sincerity. You glanced at him but he dropped his forehead to yours, his hand on your bare hip tracing circles into your skin. “When you’re not here, you’re all I think about. When you are here – all I want to do is-”
“-get into my pants?” You asked, joking.
Eddie’s eyes flashed enticingly and you grinned. “You’re insatiable, Firecracker.”
“That’s because I can’t get enough of you,” you said, nipping at his ear and savoring in the way his hips twitched. “It’s always been you. So, no, you complete sap – you’re not alone.”
“That’s a relief,” Eddie teased, frantic hands starting again.
His hair tickled your skin as you lifted your hips to help him pull your jeans down. Laughing lightly at the sensation, you brought Eddie’s face down towards your own and shot him a look. “You know, no one ever believes me when I tell them you’re an incurable romantic.”
Eddie shot you a look. “Good, I have a reputation to upkeep, you know.”
“The town cult leader?” You asked, pretending to widen your eyes in fear. “Oh no, are you corrupting me?”
At that, Eddie cackled. “Sweetheart, if anyone’s corrupting here – it’s you.”
“And don’t you forget it,” you said, kissing him again.
The memory hits you like a semi-truck and you need to sit down to gather your thoughts. Your mind raced – amnesia? Was he hit that hard in the head? Panic started clawing at you, black spots appearing at the corner of your vision, and you wrung your hands together.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked, eyes on you.
You couldn’t look at him for too long, you hadn’t been apart for long enough for it to stop hurting. “Nothing, Eddie,” you rasped, breath ragged.
“Right, and you look ready to throw up because?” Eddie hissed as he shifted more towards you. “Is it because of the accident? I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse. What’s wrong with me anyway?”
His joke hit too close and you jumped to your feet. A nurse – you needed a nurse. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Finally glancing at him, you realized his eyes had a glazed look to them.
“Mhmm.”
You stumbled into the hallway, tripping over your feet as you all but collapse into the nursing station. “My e- fiancé woke up,” you said, chest heaving, “he doesn’t – his last memory – he thinks it’s a year ago.”
The nurse, looking entirely unworried, nodding calmly. “That’s common when waking up from sedation, don’t worry. Let’s go take a look at him.” As she walked you back to the room, you chewed on your thumb, mind running wild.
“Oh, looks like he fell back asleep,” the nurse said, smiling, “it’s absolutely normal, don’t fret. Oh, look at you, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
You had.
“His vitals look good, everything’s okay. Don’t worry, this is a good sign! He’s not likely to remember much when he wakes up next so don’t hold anything he says against him. It varies from person to person but, it means he’ll be awake soon. Okay?”
Nodding dumbly, you felt her squeeze your shoulder before puttering back out through the door.
“Okay, Hopper,” you inhaled, “get it together.” Grabbing the nearest phone, you dial the number you’d yet to forget and prepared yourself to hear Wayne’s voice.
“The number you have called is no longer in service.”
A chill ran down your spine. How was that possible? You dialed the number again, worried you’d gotten it wrong but the operator echoed the message. Hanging up, you frowned. If the phones were down…or if Wayne wasn’t at the trailer anymore – this couldn’t be good.
Eddie smacked his lips, eyes fluttering before sighing and falling quiet again.
You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t stay here while he woke up living in memories that hurt you.
“Alright, time for the calvary,” you said to yourself. Reaching towards your backpack, your hand wrapped around the walkie. You were sure Dustin was awake at this point, someone had to be.
“Dustin, do you copy?” You try again.
There’s a few beats of silence before your walkie, for the first time in months, crackled with life.
“Hopper?” It screeched.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Holy shit.”
“I know,” you sighed, “it’s been a while.”
“Ten months.”
You winced at the hurt in Dustin’s voice. An apology was on the tip of your tongue when a third voice joined.
“I’m sorry, was that Hopper’s voice I heard or am I hallucinating from how early it is?” A groggy sounding Steve asked.
Rubbing your temples, you contemplated answering before sighing. “Yeah, it’s me.” The exhaustion in your voice was evident.
“Wait, are you okay?” Dustin asked, ever your worrier.
“Did someone say Hopper?” Robin croaked.
“I think so,” Nancy’s voice came next and you sighed.
The whole gang. “Yeah. I’m…at Hawkins Hospital.”
The walkie exploded into a flurry of voices and you lowered the volume considerably.
“There was a mix up, I’m still Eddie’s emergency contact and they called me. Once I heard about the earthquakes, I suspected something was happening. Does anyone want to fill me in?”
“It’s too much to do over the walkies,” Dustin sighed.
“Don’t move. We’re already on our way.”
The walkie went silent then, no doubt the group swapping over to a different frequency to discuss. You felt like an outsider but – that had been what you wanted. So why did it hurt so much?
Gaze dropping back down to Eddie, you notice his nails are painted – mostly chipped but pieces of black nail polish still clung to some of his fingers.
“You got everything?” He asked.
Nodding, you stayed quiet, watching the buildings get closer and closer together.
You were nervous to join in on the last year of middle school, mid-year. Your dad promised you’d like Hawkins; it was where he grew up. The tree lined streets blurred around you as you sped past them.
“Where’s mom?” You asked, hating yourself for the flash of pain that crossed his face. She’d always been the one to take you to school on the first day.
“She went to England, remember honey? With some of her old family.” You heard what he didn’t say. She left us. She didn’t want you anymore. You knew better than to ask about her.
“I’m sorry,” you said softly.
“Don’t be,” your dad parked in the lot and followed you as you hopped out. “I know this is hard honey, I know. I love you, okay? Nothing changes that.”
“You promise?” you asked, mortified for your need of validation.
His face shifted into something sad before solidifying into something you didn’t recognize. “No matter what anyone says, squirt, you are my daughter. You are my family. It’s you and me against the world now, okay? Hoppers stick together through everything.”
Smiling, you hurled your arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly. “Alright. You want me to go in with you?”
“Oh my God no,” you hissed, “Dad please, you’re in uniform.”
Your dad laughed, his belly shaking while he pushed you towards the school. “Teenagers man. I liked you better when you were a little squirt!”
“Bye!” You said, speeding off before he could change his mind. Making sure he wasn’t following, you managed to slam into something – someone.
“Ouch,” a voice grumbled from the floor.
“I’m so sorry!” You squeaked, hand flying down to the boy you’d trampled. “Great, it’s my first day and I’m already running people over.”
A pair of wide brown eyes shot open and you startled at their depth. “First day? You’re the new deputy’s kid?”
You groaned. “Does everyone know?”
The boy straightened, dusting off a few leaves from his pants before nodding. “When someone new drops into this shithole, everyone takes notice.”
“Great.”
At that, his serious face broke and his laugh completely transformed his face. Your palms started sweating and you didn’t know what the feeling in your stomach was. His hand came up to fix his backpack and you noticed his painted left hand.
“Are your nails painted?” You asked before you could stop yourself.
Unaffected by your question, his eyes lit up and he nodded. He held his hand out and you noticed that he had painted his nails black. “Metal right? I’m starting a band.”
“A band?” Your brows flew up as you shook his hand. You’d never known anyone your age that was in band. “What’s the name?”
“Corroded Coffin!” He grinned, looking boyish. “My best friend got a drum set for his birthday and my uncle said he’d give me some money for a guitar if I pass the year.”
“That’s so cool,” you breathed.
“It is?” He said, making you laugh.
You watched him pick at the peeling nail polish and were suddenly glad you’d almost mowed him down. “Yeah.” The bell rung, indicating you were late and you straightened. “Oh, I’m sorry – I have to go.”
“Wait!” He shouted as you jogged up the stairs. You turned around, smiling at his exaggerated moves. “I’m Eddie Munson.”
“I’m-”
“I know who you are, new girl,” Eddie said, smiling. “See you around?”
Your heart skipped. “Yeah. See you.”
The memory was abruptly pushed back into the locked cabinet it crawled out from when the door to the room slammed open. You jumped, startled at the chaos that swirled into the room.
“Oh my God!” Dustin screeched.
“Stop screaming Henderson,” Robin said, sweeping into the room and grabbing the chair next to yours. “This is a hospital.”
“Holy shit, ghosts do exist,” Steve said, frozen at the door.
You rolled your eyes. “You came to see me for Thanksgiving, doofus.” Steve and Robin had been the only ones from Hawkins that refused to let you disappear without a word. They’d driven up to help you move into your apartment near campus and surprised you in November.
“I knew you wouldn’t come back to Hawkins and we didn’t want you to spend your first holiday alone,” Steve said, pulling you into a tight hug.
Robin grinned. “Besides, you’re off to California for Christmas. We need our share of Hopper at least during one major holiday.”
“Yeah, but I never thought I’d see you here again,” Steve said, eyes darting over to Eddie then back to you.
Robin flung her arms around you. She smacked a kiss to your cheek and sighed when you squeezed her back. “I know you’re not happy to be here, but I’m happy to see you.”
Steve shoved her aside, grumbling when Robin smacked his shoulder, but pulled you into his arms anyway. “You good, Hop?”
“Yeah,” you croaked, hating the feeling of safety that their arms brought you. It was like a boat coming back to harbor. “I’m good Harrington.”
Steve stepped back, leaving a straight line to a pouting Dustin. You smiled, taking a small step forward as he shot his nose up in the air. “You didn’t just leave the town behind, you know,” Dustin said, “you left us here too.”
“I know,” you admitted, “but you understand why I did it, right?”
At that, he deflated. “Yeah.” You took advantage of the moment and slammed into him. “Oof,” he grunted, arms coming up to your back, steadying the both of you.
You’d babysat Dustin – all of them – since your first week in Hawkins. While you had a major soft spot for Will, Dustin was always one of your favorite people in the entire town. “I missed you kid,” you said quietly, horrified to feel tears building.
“I missed you too,” he said, squeezing you. His forgiveness a balm over a wound he hadn’t inflicted. Your eyes fell onto Eddie’s sleeping figure and you sighed. “Don’t leave and forget us again, okay?”
Laughing, you stepped back, wiping your eyes and shaking your head. “Dustin Henderson, I can say, without a doubt, that you’re unforgettable.”
His eyes brightened and you fell back into the seat you’d vacated. “Alright, give me the long version.”
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“Well shit,” you breathed. “Have either of you been able to get ahold of El? Jonathan? Will?”
“No,” Dustin sighed. “We’ve been trying. We think they knew something was happening – or they had to go somewhere. Agent Stinson isn’t really forthcoming with information.”
That was a new name to you – Stinson. You’d briefly met Dr. Owens when he’d come to your, late, rescue at Starcourt. You didn’t like him but your dad had trusted him and clearly it was well placed if they’d managed to clear Eddie’s name.
“Why didn’t you call me?” You asked, a little hurt, “I would’ve come.”
Steve and Dustin glanced at each other. “We were going to but…Eddie told us not to.”
“After we told him about what was happening and we realized that people were dying – he was worried that you could be targeted,” Robin explained, “he said you’d finally made it out of here and we couldn’t be the ones to curse you.”
Of course, that overprotective idiot.
“And he’s really cleared of all the charges?”
Robin nodded, kicking her legs out. “They pinned it on Jason. I feel a little…bad but there were no other options. The official story is that Jason was jealous when he heard Chrissy was buying from Eddie. He killed her and tried to get Eddie too. Half the town thinks Eddie’s heroic for trying to save her but the other half still…you know, it’s still Hawkins.”
“Of course,” you snorted.
“I don’t know why the front nurse called you,” Steve said, scratching his cheek, “our numbers were down and Wayne’s been by. In fact, I think this is the longest he’s been away from Eddie’s side. Powell called him in to try and grab as much as he could from the trailer.”
“I saw the damage on my way here,” you said, “they’re saying it’s an earthquake?”
Dustin’s curls shook as he laughed. “That’s what they felt so, it’s what they sort of clung to. The two gates managed to crack open and burrow through the town but these guys got him in time. Eddie bought everyone enough time to finish it.”
“Is Max okay?” You asked.
“Yeah, she’s actually going home today. She’s on the first floor somewhere in pediatrics. Both her legs are broken but, she’s back to her normal self again.”
The story was overwhelming but you knew from experience that it usually always was. There was nothing normal about any of this. “Have you tried El again?” You asked, anxiety for your sister. You knew Joyce – and Jonathan – would protect her with their lives but, the radio silence was worrying you. She was all you had left.
“We’ll find them, I promise,” Dustin said, his expression growing serious. “Don’t worry.”
“So,” you exhaled, “is it over? For real this time?”
“Yeah,” Robin said, looking both exhausted and relieved all at once. “It looks like it.”
The four of you knocked on wood quickly.
“Alright,” you stood, already feeling like this room was a cage. “Take me to Max, I wanna see Red with my own two eyes.”
“We’ll stay with him,” Robin said, “you two go ahead.”
Dustin nodded, motioning for you to follow him.
The walk down the four flights of stairs was comfortable. “He still loves you, you know,” Dustin said right as you stepped out the stairway, making you stumble.
“Jesus, Dustin,” you hissed, rubbing your elbow.
He smiled sheepishly. “Ever since you left – he’s been…it’s been bad. He was doing a little better but I know him,” he shrugged, “and I’ve known you even longer.”
“Dustin,” you warned.
As usual, he disregarded you. “I love you both. Just, don’t hurt each other any more than you already have, okay?”
Affection for this rapidly growing kid swelled in your chest. “It’s complicated, Dustybuns.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
Without waiting for your response, he kicked open the door to your left and laughed when Lucas shrieked. “I brought you guys something.”
“If it’s more of your stupid dnd magazines I’m going to rip the pages and shove them down your – Hopper!” Max gaped, eyes lighting up. “Holy shit, what are you doing here?”
“Eddie,” Dustin said.
Without preamble, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your shoulders. “Hey Sinclair,” you said, hugging him bag. “Heard you made the basketball team.”
“Who cares about him,” Max grumbled her eyes bright. Lucas laughed, squeezing your shoulder.
“Hi Maxine,” you said, pulling her gently into your arms. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I’m not that easy to kill,” Max shrugged, but you heard what she wasn’t saying. “I’m happy you’re here.”
“I’m sorry you got sucked into all this again, all of you,” you sighed. Lucas reached for Max’s hand, shy expression on both their faces.
“I’m going to go visit Eddie for a minute, you okay?”
“Yeah, weirdo, I’ll be fine.” She nodded towards you. “She’s got the best punch in all Indiana.”
Snorting, you knew she was talking about the time you’d decked Billy. You had been sure he was going to kill Steve, straddling him on the floor of the Byers’ house. He almost broke your hand with his stupid jaw.
“That’s true,” you said, shaking out your hand. “I got her, Sinclair. Don’t worry.”
“So,” Max said once Lucas and Dustin had left, “why are you really here?”
“The hospital called me, said I needed to get down here because Eddie was here,” you said, honestly, “I knew, after I heard about the earthquake, that it meant something had happened.”
“We tried to keep him out of it,” Max sighed, “he’s just as stubborn as you are.”
Max’s red hair glinted in the morning sun, the strands dancing with color as she shifted while she recounted her side of the story. “You saw El?” You blinked, sitting up straighter.
“Yeah,” she said, smiling at your relief. “She helped me hide from Vecna.”
“With her powers?” You blinked, shocked. How the hell had they come back? Where was she?
Max nodded. “She disappeared before I could ask but she had them back. We’ve tried calling but-”
Lucas smacked the door open, eyes wide, and chest rising quickly. “Uh, we were in the middle of a conversation,” Max snarked, teasing.
“Eddie…he’s awake.”
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You stand outside the door, where you could hear a familiar voices and laughter filter through. For a moment, a genuine moment, you consider not going in. Steve and Robin wouldn’t fault you for it – they knew you better than anyone besides Jonathan. You could find a hotel and settle for the night. You could get into your car and drive back to your empty apartment. Fingers twitching, you chewed on the corner of your mouth, trying to sort through the chaos inside you.
“I don’t understand why you’re acting like this now,” you said, heart in your throat. You’d been getting better…right? It’d only been a few months. “Is it because of school? Because I’m leaving?”
Eddie groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “I heard you tell Steve that you didn’t think you could go.”
“What?” You stammered, lowering yourself onto the edge of his bed.
“You said, I can’t leave Eddie behind – I’m thinking of transferring over to Hawkins community college. You can’t do that. Not for me. Your dad would roll in his grave if he knew you were throwing out a full ride to one of the best schools in the state for someone like me.”
Enraged, you stood and waved a hand. “That’s my decision! You can’t just decide what’s best for me!”
“You said it yourself,” Eddie shouted back, “this town is poisonous. It’s cursed and it’ll keep hacking away at you if you don’t get the hell out of here.”
“I can’t believe you.”
Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose and you watched him pace. “There’s nothing left for you here. You’ve been walking around these past three months like a zombie. I know – I know that grief is overwhelming but this town, this fucking place won’t let you go. Every time I see you doing better, it finds a way to knock you back down. I…I can’t be the reason why you sink. I won’t.”
“So, what you’re breaking up with me?”
Pain flashed across his expression and you felt your heart break. “Yes.”
“Are you serious?” You asked, almost a whisper. “Eddie, are you serious right now?”
“It’s for your own good.”
Pride and panic flared through you. “I’m not going to beg you not to leave me. I won’t do it if that’s what you’re waiting for.”
“How could you even – no, Hopper, that’s not what I’m waiting for. I love you.”
You sneered. “Well, it sure doesn’t sound like it.”
“You have to understand, on some level I know you do.”
Gritting your teeth, you looked out Eddie’s window and at your new car. Jonathan had finally finished its last finishing touches and you’d been so excited to come show Eddie.
“Hopper?”
Closing your eyes, you saw your dad in his cruiser. You saw Barb in her nightdress as you and Nancy braided each other’s hair. Joyce with Bob, dressed for Halloween. El, her leg broken, and her chest heaving with sobs as you watched the mall erupt in flames. Will, as he screamed in pain. Billy, with his last act of defiance.
He was right. This town was haunted and that’s why you’d told Joyce it was okay to take El with her to California. You’d wanted her out of here, safe. You knew, in his own way, that’s what Eddie wanted for you.
“Would you come with me?” You asked, hating how small you sounded.
Eddie’s sad smile told you everything you needed to know. “I can’t leave Wayne. I’m not done with school – if I’ll ever be. I’d just be dead weight to you.”
That was bullshit. He’d get a job at a shop in a heartbeat, and you knew that. He’d like your campus, small as it was. He was scared – and being hypocritical.
“Wayne would be fine with it. He’s always known we’d end up together anyway,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “You’re just scared. You don’t want to take the risk of leaving the only place you know. Even if it’s for me.”
“That’s not true, don’t put words in my mouth.”
You threw up your hands. “That’s what you’re doing with me!”
“That’s different! I want what’s best for you!”
“And what if that’s you? What if I don’t know how to be happy without you?”
Eddie’s face twisted. “You’ll learn. You’ll move on.”
“Wow,” you said, swiping angrily at the tears on your face. “You’d rather stay here, the place you want me to leave, than come with me. You’d pick Hawkins over me?”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” he said, sounding unsure. “I’m – you’ll understand eventually.”
And that was it. Your best friend, the person you thought you’d share the rest of your life with and the last person you had a tether to, just placed you out onto the street like you weren’t worth anything.
“Okay.”
Eddie reached for you and you snapped your arm out of his reach. Hurt flittered across his eyes but you didn’t care. Not anymore. The numbness that hid in the corners of your mind, waiting for your moments of weakness, slithered out and controlled the rest of you. El, your dad, Eddie, your friends…it didn’t hurt. It couldn’t hurt. You wouldn’t survive it. Not now.
“Hopper…” Eddie’s expression twisted.
“Don’t touch me,” you said, blinking at him. Grabbing your bag and your sweatshirt, you made your way out the trailer.
“Sweetheart, please,” Eddie’s voice sounded panicked, his body close behind you.
Throwing your bag into the passenger’s seat, you rounded towards the other side of the car and froze when his hand caught your door.
“That’s it? You’re not – going to say anything else?”
Why would you? Everyone always left. Why would you think Eddie was any different?
“No,” you said, wanting to hurt him, “what’s left to say? You chose this town over me. It’s officially taken everything I care about.”
“I’m not-”
Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes but the monster taking over you herded the emotions back. What was the point? “Let go of my door.”
“I don’t want us to leave it like this.”
“Eddie,” you snapped, “let go of my door. You wanted me to go? I’m going. Let me go.”
Wordlessly, he pulled his hand away and you slammed your door. Without a backwards glance, no matter how much you wanted to, you drove out of the trailer park and out of this hellmouth.
You closed your eyes and sighed. Once your anger had worn off and the depression had let up on it’s hold on your chest, you realized how shitty you’d been. Eddie had called you for the first three months, like clockwork. Every Friday and Sunday night. You’d ignored him until he stopped calling.
It’d been almost a year and you were only just beginning to crawl out of the hole you’d been thrown into – those first few months, had been rough. Eddie…you shouldn’t have dumped it all on him like that. He’d made mistakes but – so had you.
Stomach flipping, you took a step back, not sure if you were ready to open the can of worms that this would unleash.
The universe, as if hearing you indecision, swung the door open before you could walk away. Dustin blinked, his eyes widening, and the room behind you went silent.
“Um,” you said, clearing your throat, “I was just-”
You stumbled over your words, not able to look at anyone in the eye. The following silence was painful, enough to make you take another step back. As if anticipating your need to run, Steve stood up from the foot of Eddie’s bed.
“Alright, uh, let’s all give them a second – it’ll be awkward enough without all you making it worse,” Steve joked, herding your friends out the door and squeezing your hand as he passed.
With an awkwardness that was beyond painful, you stumbled into the room. Eddie’s eyes felt like they were branding you as they swept down your body.
“You look good,” he said, clearing his throat when it came out roughly, “better than the last time I saw you.”
“Yeah,” you said, sitting in the chair furthest from him. “I – uh, I’ve been seeing a therapist. She’s…basically my life raft right now.”
“That’s good, I’m glad,” Eddie said, and you knew he meant it. You both settled into an uncomfortable silence, your stances defensive.
“I’m sorry about the girl,” you said quietly, not able to stand the quiet, “Chrissy.” You chanced a look at him and realized he had a lot more color to him than he’d had last night.
Eddie’s brows furrowed. “Me too, I just…left her there.”
Instinct had you reaching for his hand to comfort him but at the last minute you snatched yours back to your chest. Eddie huffed; eyes amused. “You didn’t – you didn’t know about any of this. Anyone would’ve run,” you said, lamely.
“Not you,” he said with a certainty that had you reeling. “You would’ve stayed. You always did.”
Until you didn’t.
“I don’t really remember her,” you said quietly, the words you want to ask buried in your ribcage. “I think she’d be proud of you. I hope…everyone who’s been affected by this. Barb, Billy, Bob… I hope they’re proud of what you’ve all done. What I’ve done.”
As always, Eddie heard what you didn’t say. With another sweep of his wide brown eyes, he dug the words out of your chest and laid them out to see. “She wasn’t my girlfriend. Chrissy. She was buying.”
The words, I didn’t ask, were on the tip of your tongue. Old defensive habits rearing their ugly heads. You shrugged, not knowing what to say. “Okay.”
Eddie groaned instantly. “I hate when you do that.”
“Do what?” You sighed, feeling the need to snap.
He waved a weak hand in your direction. “You act like you don’t care. Like nothing affects you.”
The accusation stung, words you’d heard before, but you bit your lip and kept silent. Glancing out the open window, you watched the moon disappear behind a flurry of clouds. He was hurt, you were too, and you knew each other too well to pretend like that wasn’t hanging above your heads.
“I don’t want to do this with you right now,” you said quietly, “you almost died.”
“Well, I’m fine now so you can go. I promise to change my contact information as soon as possible,” he said, eyes skirting away from yours.
You flinched, like he’d stuck you and nodded. Of course, what had you been expecting? He’d asked you to leave and you’d asked him to go with you. Neither of you really got what you wanted. What the hell were you still doing here? He was fine. Everyone was fine. You weren’t needed here.
“Okay,” you said, reminiscent of that afternoon. Eddie’s eyes snapped to yours, like he heard the echo too.
“Wait,” he said, voice desperate. You stopped, at the foot of his bed, and turned to him. “I have to ask.”
Your heart raced.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Four years. We were together for four years and you just kept me in the dark.” You had wondered how long it’d take him to ask you that, if he would ever. “I knew something was wrong but…something this big?”
“My dad – he didn’t want us to tell anyone. They were always going to want El back and she’s, my sister. We couldn’t let them find her. I wanted to protect you. You were the only person I could be normal with. The only one who made me feel like I was normal.”
Eddie nodded, understanding.
“It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. I trusted you more than anyone in my life – next to my dad. After Starcourt, after my dad…I almost told you. I just – I was thrown into the ocean and didn’t know which way was up. I was an orphan again and alone and El was leaving. I had choices to make. People kept asking me what to do and I didn’t know! I was lost and honestly, having to deal with the grief, with El losing her powers, with her grief, and having to explain it all to you while worrying the KGB were going to somehow know that you knew – it was too much for me at the time.”
“I understand,” he said, expression softening like he could sense your panic at just saying it out loud.
“Is that it?” You asked.
“How…how’s school?” Eddie ignored your question.
Lonely. “Fine,” you said.
“You?”
“Fine.”
Wincing, you cracked your knuckles to have something to do. The corner of Eddie’s mouth twitched, like a ghost of smile.
“What?”
Eddie motioned to your hands. “You do that when you’re uncomfortable.”
“I’m not,” you lied, not wanting to feel unnerved by his up-to-date knowledge of you. You’d changed. You weren’t the same girl who’d left last summer.
“It’s okay. I knew that this would happen – I’m someone you once knew.”
And fuck if that wasn’t one of the hardest pills to swallow.
Not wanting to let the hurt fester, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “How’s Wayne?” Eddie shot you a knowing look, and an apologetic smile, but as if summoned – the man in question walked through the open door.  
“I heard you’d woken up from Henderson! I don’t know why no one called me. I got here as soon as I could - sweetheart?” You almost crumpled at the sound of care in his voice.
“Hi,” you said, feeling small. You knew Eddie noticed, his eyes widening, watching as you leaned into Wayne’s surprised hug.
“What – what are you doing here?” He asked, smile wide.
You pointed to Eddie. “I, um, heard what happened.”
Wayne walked over to Eddie, as if remembering why he was here, and cupped his face. “Don’t do that to me again, kid.”
“Sorry,” Eddie mumbled, smiling up at him.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Wayne said, sighing. His eyes turned over to you and he smiled.
“How’s school?”
You wrapped your arms around yourself and tried to keep your eyes on Wayne. “It’s going well. The classes are hard but, it’s interesting.”
“Make any new friends?”
Eddie’s eyes burned into yours. “Yeah,” you said, thinking of your classmates and neighbors. “Yeah, I have.”
Wayne smiled, pleased, sitting onto the chair by Eddie.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying – I knew you two would find your ways back to each other,” Wayne said, sighing like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “You’ve always been the only one. Since that day in eighth grade that he came home yelling about the Jim’s girl. How nice you’d been and how you liked his black nail polish. I’ve been telling him to get his GED and make his way on up to you.”
“Wayne.”
You smiled, the memory of a thirteen-year-old Eddie with his shaved head and chubby cheeks. “I’m – we’re not,” you coughed, “this isn’t…”
Wayne frowned and sighed. Turning to look at his nephew with a sharp glare, you muffled a laugh at Eddie’s disgruntled expression. “What? It’s not – oh my God Wayne, can we talk about this later?”
“Later when she’s gone back to a different state?” Wayne asked, gruffly.
Eddie closed his eyes and you watched as his face flushed pink.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you, darlin’, but what’re you doing back here then if you’re not…”
“I’m still his emergency contact,” you explained, “they called me and I drove down.” Wayne’s brows rose high on his forehead and you bit your cheek.
Feeling like you were intruding on something, you stood, despite Eddie’s sharp look. “Why don’t I give you two a few minutes? Wayne, would you want some coffee?”
His familiar warm smile kept the dark clouds over you at bay. “Thank you, sweetheart, that’d be great.”
You took your time, grabbing a handful of snacks for any visitors that would come by later in the day. After contemplating a few jello cups, you grabbed Eddie’s favorite and ignored the pang in your chest. Precariously balancing your purchases on the coffee tray, you slowly made your way back to the room. You could hear the nurse on shift puttering around inside so you sat in the chair outside the room, waiting.
“You must be excited to see your fiancé,” the nurse’s bright voice floated out into the hallway. “She was so worried, completely frazzled the poor thing. I could hear her crying when I made my rounds.”
The silence was deafening. Closing your eyes, mortification drowned you. Maybe you could just leave the food here and be back on your campus by morning.
“Ah, yes,” Eddie’s voice sounded less convincing than Dustin trying to lie. “She…she’s studying at Milwaukee School of Engineering right now. I think it must’ve been a bit too much of a surprise for her.”
“She looked like she drove through the night, poor girl,” the nurse said, the sound of her changing his IV bag echoed in the room. “You two are a lucky pair.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asked.
You opened an eye and couldn’t help but lean forward, hanging onto her words. “I’ve never seen someone look more in love than that girl. I hope you don’t mind me giving my well wishes for your wedding. I know anyone who looks at you the way she does, can make it through all this mess.”
Someone coughed and you winced. Fuck this, you were going to drop off everything – say your goodbyes and leave. He clearly didn’t want you here anymore than you wanted to be back here. You closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep as the nurse walked out. After a few moments, you cracked an eye open and frowned.
“Son,” Wayne sighed.
“Don’t.”
“Enough,” Wayne’s voice was stern – something you’d never heard before. “Enough of this Edward.”
You blinked, glancing at the door left ajar. Edward? The kid in you had you cringing in sympathy. No one ever called Eddie by his full name.
“I watched you wither away when she left. I heard you crying, wasting away into someone that reminded me of your father.”
“She’s nothing like my mother,” Eddie said, surprising you with his defense. “She needed to get out of this fucking town and I wasn’t going to be what kept her back. I told her to go – she didn’t leave me behind.”
“Then why are you acting like it?”
“I-I, Wayne – I don’t-”
“Why did you put her down as your emergency contact?”
The silence was poignant. Your heart jumped into your throat.
“I forgot to change it, that’s all.”
Wayne scoffed. “You don’t forget something like that, Eddie. Maybe, just maybe, the same way she dropped everything in the middle of the night to drive back to this sorry town for you – you kept her down on the off chance she’d come when you called.” A loud groan echoed. “Eddie, for God’s sake her father had just died. She had no family. And you ran her out of town. I know you love her son, but you can’t keep this up. It’s not healthy.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about old man.”
“Kid. She answered your call, so now the ball is in your court. You gotta try. You can’t make decisions for her. Trust me. I don’t want you making my mistakes and ending up all alone and angry at the world. I let Rebecca walk out the door and I’ve missed her every day since. Is that what you want? To regret losing the best thing that’s ever happened to you?”
Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you blinked back your tears.
“Wayne…”
“If she’s offering you a hand to help you stand, you can’t leave her waiting. Not anymore,” he said, voice firm. “If you don’t want to take the hand then fine. Just stop being surprised when people leave after you’ve told them to.”
“Where are you going?” Eddie’s voice sounded panicked.
“I’m going home to get some sleep. You’re going to talk to her, Eddie. She’s always seen the best in you, it’s time you do the same. I’ll see you in the morning son.”
His footsteps echoed in your ears and you didn’t move when the door was pulled open. Not bothering to pretend to be asleep, you tried to hide the tears at the corner of your eyes.
“Oh sweetheart,” he sighed, squatting down to your level. “I know, I know.”
Falling into his arms, you closed your eyes and let the smell of cigarettes and aftershave wash over you. It wasn’t the pair of arms you’d kill to be able to have around you one last time, but Wayne had never been anything but welcoming to you.
“Why does it hurt so bad?” You asked, voice quiet and watery. The lack of sleep, the bone deep exhaustion and fear collapsed within you like an overflowing glass. Your defenses crumbled and you buried your face into the last bit of comfort you knew. “Why does everyone I love get ripped from me? Is it me?”
“No, it’s not. You listen to me,” Wayne said, pulling away. “There is not a thing wrong with you. I know you miss your father, sweetheart, grief is a heavy thing. You can’t carry it alone.”
Wayne caught your gaze as it landed on the closed door. “My nephew has never been the first out of the gate but, I know that boy has been in love with you since that first day.”
“What if it’s not enough?” You asked, the question seared into your skin since your life began.
Love hadn’t kept your biological parents with you. Love hadn’t kept Sara alive. Love hadn’t kept your mother from leaving you both. Love hadn’t kept your father alive. Love hadn’t been enough to keep you and Eddie from crumbling. Love hadn’t done anything for you. What had it been in your life besides a source of pain?
“It’s not enough sometimes but, isn’t it worth fighting for?” His stubble scratched your forehead as he kissed your temple. “I’m at a hotel downtown if you need me, okay? Don’t leave without saying goodbye this time.”
Guilt shot through you but you knew he hadn’t meant it unkindly.
“Thank you,” you said, squeezing his hand once more before letting him disappear through the elevator doors.
Feeling too warm, you pulled your school sweatshirt off, the cool air feeling a little calming on your clammy skin. Taking a few deep breaths, you glanced down at the food on the chair and nodded to yourself. It was late, you needed to sleep, and you knew that Steve was likely only barely holding Dustin back from coming to find you.
“Hey,” Eddie said, looking startled when you walked in. His eyes hovered around your neck and a blank expression took over his face.
“Um, Wayne just left and didn’t take his coffee so – I’m going to leave all this here, okay?”
Eddie blinked. “Uh, yeah, yes.”
“Since, you’re – you know, okay – I’m going to…get going,” you said quietly.
Shooting up, Eddie groaned when it all but tugged out the IV from his arm.
“Eddie!” You jumped, startled. Reaching his left arm in seconds, you checked on the tape – your fingers dancing over the bandage. “I don’t think you pulled it out, you just moved it a little.”
Looking up from his arm, you realized you’d gotten a lot closer than you’d meant to. Dropping his arm suddenly, he winced at his wrist collided with the bed barrier.
“Sorry,” you muttered, grabbing your bag and hauling it over your shoulders. You’d only made it across the room when his voice stopped you.
“Are you coming back?”
Isn’t it worth fighting for?
“I don’t know,” you said honestly, dropping your eyes to the linoleum floor. “We’re…I don’t want to fight with you. I’m glad you’re okay, genuinely. I think, maybe, we both just need to process.”
When he didn’t answer, you brought your eyes back up to his but he wasn’t looking at you. He was staring at your neck again. Before you could ask him if you had something on you, his expression shifted into something determined.
“We’ve had almost a year to process,” Eddie said, eyes darting up to yours. They pinned you to the spot, your body unwilling to move. “I’m – I’m sorry.”
Pressure built behind your eyes and you pressed a palm to them. “Eddie,” you pleaded.
“No,” he said firmly, “I ran you off last time. I told myself I didn’t want to hold you back. You deserve better than this shithole and some boyfriend that doesn’t know what he’s doing with his life.”
“I never thought you-”
“I know,” he said, face softening into something familiar and your heart thudded painfully. “I know you didn’t.”
After a beat of uncomfortable silence, you shifted your weight and Eddie sighed.
“Look at me.”
You let your eyes trail up his body until you met his own.
He nodded, like he’d gotten an answer to a question he hadn’t asked. “I’m sorry I was stupid enough to let you go.”
“I-”
“Let me say it, please?”
Nodding, he continued. “I’m sorry for projecting onto you when you were already going through the worst time of your life. I’m sorry for deciding for us that you needed a new start away from here, one without me in it. I’m sorry for breaking what we had.”
After months of wanting to hear those words, you didn’t know what to do now that they’d been said. “I…thank you. For saying that. I’m sorry too. I was lost – I’m still lost in my grief. It’s hard, to walk around knowing I’ll never see him again, you know? El understands but she’s so far away and I didn’t want to be another weight that dragged you down.”
“You could never,” he said, eyes flashing. “Can you come here?”
Walking over to his side, he reached for your hands and brought them up to his lips. “Sweetheart, I promised to love you forever.”
“Eddie-”
“And I meant it. It hurt me to see you stumbling through the dark, to know you’d lost something that couldn’t be replaced. Something I couldn’t help heal. I thought that school would help in ways I couldn’t. Being away from this hellhole. A new, fresh chapter. That’s all – that’s what Chief wanted for you. To follow your dreams and that school had been on your radar since we were freshman.”
“It did, it has,” you said, not wanting him to think he was wrong. “It’s cathartic to be in a place where no one knows you. Where people don’t stare at you sadly because you’re the dead chief’s daughter.”
“I’m glad,” he said, brushing his lips against your knuckles again, the gesture stirring awake something you’d long ago put to bed. The silence shifted to something comfortable and you were happy you could get there, at long last. “You’re wearing my necklace.”
Your free hand flew to your neck and you closed your eyes. “I – it was the middle of the night and I just threw on a sweater and some shoes,” you said, trying to bend the truth into an explanation that didn’t paint you in a desperate light.
“I remember once you said you were like a graveyard,” Eddie said, fingers trailing up towards the bracelet on your wrist. You knew exactly what he was talking about.
The rain outside pounded against Eddie’s window, the day looking just as miserable as you felt inside. It was mid-August and the school was expecting your response on whether or not you’d be deferring due to bereavement for a semester. You hated that word. Bereavement. It was so small compared to how big a loss you’d suffered.
“Good morning sleepyhead,” Eddie said, arm curling around your waist, pulling you into his chest.
Closing your eyes, you savored the moment. The only time you felt anything was when he was wrapped around you like a shield that could keep the world out. The only few minutes where you felt normal again, not a twice again orphan.
“Good morning,” you whispered. Sometimes you wondered that if you were quiet enough – maybe the universe would stop the day from coming. The moon would stay and the dark would let you keep hiding in its embrace.
“How did you sleep?” He asked and you knew what he really meant. Was it a bad day or good day? Would you be able to get up and put on the mask of a functioning person or did you need to hide away in his room?
Tired of disappointing him, of seeing him drown in the waves of your endless grief. “Okay.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded. A small sunbeam shot through the dark clouds and landed on your arm. Looking down, you smiled when you saw your illuminated bracelet.
“Do you know what I’ve been thinking about?”
“Hmm?”
The watch that you wore religiously sat at Eddie’s desk, where’d you last left it, winking at you. “I’m like a graveyard.”
At that, he sat up, hair wild and eyes clinging onto sleep still. “What?”
You motioned to your bracelet. Sara had made it for you when she was in the hospital. She promised she’d pick only the best beads, an identical match for the one she’d worn on her wrist. The one that now laid six feet beneath the dirt, buried with her. You’d never taken it off since that day.
“Sara made me this bracelet, that watch is…was my dad’s,” you said, ignoring how your voice cracked. You twisted the simple silver band on your index finger. “This was my mother’s wedding ring. She left if behind and I took it before he could throw it out.”
You sniffed, tears already falling despite your best efforts. “Eddie, I’m a graveyard of the people who didn’t stay. The one’s who left me behind.”
“Sweetheart,” Eddie sighed, pulling you into his arms. Your tears fell silently, quickly dampening Eddie’s collar.
“I’m sorry,” you said. Sorry for being this way. Sorry for always crying. Sorry for not being able to be who I was before. I’m sorry. Glancing up at him, you knew he’d heard what you hadn’t said. His hands came up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing gently at the last few tears.
“You never have to be sorry, sweetheart. My love for you isn’t conditional,” he whispered. He rocked you for a moment, both of you in varying states of undress, blankets tangled between you.
“How about this? We try and make some breakfast and I’ll let you pick whatever movie you want. Steve’ll bring it over and we can watch them until we can’t stay awake any longer.”
“Don’t you have rehearsal?” You asked, trying to remember what day it was.
“I’m all yours, baby,” he said, smiling. “Hey, I have an idea.”
“What?”
With a quick tug, Eddie’s necklace tumbled into his palm. He leaned over your shoulder and clipped it around your neck. Your hand went up to the guitar pick dangling at the base of your throat. “Eddie, isn’t this the-”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, eyes on the necklace around your neck. “It’s yours.”
“Are you sure?” You asked, confused at the sudden gesture.
He smiled, a beaming, genuine thing and you couldn’t help but reciprocate. “I’ve never been more sure of anything. That belongs to you.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s my reminder to keep going when life gets too much. It’s something alive. Things that are alive don’t go into a graveyard. So, you can’t be one.”
You shrugged, fingers playing with the familiar pick. “Did you want it back?”
“No, it’s yours,” he said, eyes on the necklace, “I’m just sorry I became something else to add to your graveyard.”
You smiled sadly, realizing that Eddie was right. It was a reminder – of what had been. Just like the others.
“I still love you,” he said, exhaling and tightening his hold on your hand. “I think I really will love you forever.”
Somehow, you both knew and were surprised at once. You were suddenly struck by a familiar wave of exhaustion and grief. It threatened to pull you under again, it sank its fingers into your legs and pulled. “I love you too, Eddie Munson,” you said quickly, afraid you’d disappear any moment.  Tears stung your eyes and you closed them, not wanting them to fall.
“Why does that sound like goodbye?” He asked.
“Because it might be,” you finally admitted, to him and to yourself. Here, in this hospital room, at midnight, alone with your first love.
“Does it have to be?” His expression turned into one of desperation and it hurt you more than anything else.
Because he hurt you when he pushed you away, no matter what the reason was. Because he was someone you loved too deeply, you wouldn’t recover if he was taken from you too. Because you had both said things that cut the other. Because sometimes the history between you two made it more complicated than it had to be.
“Because sometimes love isn’t enough.”
Eddie flinched, like you’d punched him.
“Ms. Hopper?” A voice called out. You quickly wiped the tears from your face and inhaled deeply.
“Yes?”
A new nurse popped her head in. She hesitated, clearly reading the mood, and pointed to the hallway. “Did you want me to get you a fold out bed? You can stay with your fiancé if you’re staying the night.”
Smiling through the sound of your heart shattering, you shook your head. “I’ve got a few things I need to do, but thank you. I’ll be leaving shortly.”
“Of course,” she said, scuttering away.
The silence left behind made you want to bolt for your car and not look back.
“Are you going back to Wisconsin?”
You shook your head. “It’s spring break and Buckley threatened to smother me in my sleep if I didn’t spend a day with her. I’m pretty sure Dustin and Harrington will be on me if I leave too soon also.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Does it matter?”
He sighed. “Are you coming back?” He asked again.
“I don’t know,” you said honestly, your hands itching for his.
When he didn’t respond for a few beats, you took it as your cue to leave. Gathering up your sweater and now cold coffee, you padded towards the door – heart breaking once again.
“It’s enough.”
You froze. “What?” Turning around, you glanced at him, at your Eddie. He looked pale, bruises mottling every inch of him, and purple bags hung under his eyes. He looked like someone who’d been through hell and came out the other end.
“Our love – it’s enough,” he said, matter-of-fact. “I let you go last summer because I thought it was in your best interest but we tried that and it didn’t work. It’s not working.”
Watching his chest rise and fall, you knew he was serious. His hands fisted the thin hospital blanket over his lap, tightly enough that his knuckles whitened.
“Do you love me? Are you still in love with me?”
You closed your eyes, the ache in your chest growing. “Don’t make me say it again,” you said.
Eddie frowned. “Do. You. Love. Me.”
“Yes.” Opening your eyes, you nodded at him, feeling like your chest had been cracked open. “Yes, Eddie. More than anyone else in the world.”
At that, his face smoothed over and he nodded, almost to himself, and let go of the blanket.
“That’s it?” You said, incredulous when he didn’t continue.
He shrugged, a familiar lightness settling into him. “Yeah. You’re it for me, Hopper.”
Flustered by his candor, you wrung your hands. “I – I don’t know what to say. What does that mean?” You hated the small ember that ignited in your chest and the fact that your battered heart wanted to jump back into his hands.
“You don’t need to say anything,” he said, smiling up at you, “I wasn’t sure before – I almost drove up to your campus like a million times this past year. I didn’t know if you’d want me again. Now that I know? There’s nothing that’ll stop me. Not Vecna, not demobats, not even this cast.”
The urge to grin at his declaration, at the warmth that it spread through you, was impossible. “I don’t…Eddie, I don’t know.”
“That’s okay,” he said, the smug smile on his face nudging the ember into a flame. Teasing…he was teasing you. “It took you longer the first time round too. I can wait. I know you better than anyone else. I’m Eddie the Brave now and he needs his rogue elf back.”
There was no fighting the smile that broke out on your face. Eddie sighed at the sight of it, like he’d been waiting on it for a while now – and who knew, maybe he had. You looked at your scuffed converse and chewed on your bottom lip.
“What?” He asked. “You can tell me anything.”
Stepping up to the bed, you cradled his cheek and smiled again when you saw his startled eyes. “You have always been courageous. I’ve never hated this town for anything more than how it convinced you that you were anything but. You deserve the world, Eddie the Brave. Even if that’s not me.”
Eddie’s eyes looked suspiciously misty, and you knew it was your time to go.
“If that was your way of discouraging me, you’ve made a mistake,” Eddie cried out.
You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips. Eddie blinked, dazed and smile wide enough to split his face in two.
“Are you coming back?” He asked, his voice unsteady and your hand on the doorknob. Glancing over your shoulder, you looked at your first love – your only love. Your heart waved at you from his palms, ecstatic to be back where it belonged, and beamed at you like the traitor it was.
Somethings were worth fighting for. “Yeah, I’ll be back,” you said, ducking out into the hallway before he could say anything else. Leaning against the cool tiles for a breather, you shook your limbs out.
Take a deep breath, count to ten, and let go.
A/N: I have an idea for a part two, but idk, what do you guys think?
A/N#2: okay I wasn't expecting this many people to like this emo fic :') but lmk if you want to be tagged for part 2!
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neopuppy · a year ago
Text
Hot Sauce: Deeply Dip That (M)
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Preview: “Deposit for the beach villas non-refundable. Fuck, I’m an idiot. I was starting to trust her..” Jeno’s head drops, ripping at chunks of hair frustrated.
“That’s no problem dude. We’ll help you pay the rest. An entire month at the beach? You’ll be so deep in ass, won’t even remember what she looks like anymore.” Jeno’s three best friends nod, patting his back with reassurance.
Pairing: NCT Dream 00’ line x female reader
Word Count: 19k+
Genre: PWP, Step brother Jeno AU, still enemies-still fucking, smut, M/F, Five-way, *squints, rubs eyes* is that angst? ew. This is FICTION.
Warning: Jeno’s still really mean, explicit language, possessive behavior, alcohol mentioned
Smut Warning: humiliation, degradation, overstimulation, a lot of dick, squirting, oral, spanking, sensory deprivation, choking, crying, hair pulling, slapping, spitting, rimming, anal, double-penetration, cum shots galore. This series had no purpose other than to serve filth. 1000000% consented.
You know what’s about to go down.
a/n: as a thank you to all 2000+ of you following this blog💙 don’t let your tongue burn on this hot sauce.
Hot Sauce Series | Intro—>
Part 1–> | Part 2–>
Part 3–> | Part 4–>
“Jeno! Stop it! Our parents are right inside!” You slap away roaming hands. Relaxing back into the lounge chair. Jeno’s irritated groan responding, hands itching, smacked away from your thighs. Flopping back in the chair next to you with a defeated sigh. Why did your parents have to come back home. Why did you have to strut around with your ass hanging out of a thong bikini. Jeno couldn’t stand having you so close and scantily bared much longer.
“My dicks all hard now!” His hissed tone hushes out. Doors leading from the kitchen to backyard slightly left ajar. “I want to touch you! I’m tired of this. First your mom busts into the bathroom this morning when I’m trying to get off. Blue balled me so bad I’m still in pain. My dad lecturing me last night for two hours about how I need to be responsible with my money. I can’t even sneak into your room with them around.”
“You think they’re on to us?” You sit up, nudging your sunglasses down. Shamelessly checking out his bare skin coated in a sheen of sweat. It was becoming overbearing, seemed unfair to not be hanging off Jeno’s cock at least more than once per day. At this point even just once was becoming too troublesome for both of you to pull off.
“I don’t fucking care even if they are. If they know, then we should just fuck anyway.” Jeno’s too spoiled, has never had problems getting what he wants- when he wants. This bratty nature he reveals once in awhile doing nothing for the agitation between your thighs.
“You’re right. They probably don’t know.” Eyes rolling, settling back with a sigh. Trying to enjoy the first days of summer upon you. Absorbing the heat coming down. Jeno sits up looking around, watching your parents cook dinner together in the kitchen. Stopping after every added seasoning and condiment to embrace. Face turning disgusted the longer he watches. He glances around, eyes landing on the small pool house where extra towels for guests are kept. Like a light bulb going off in his mind, he perks up standing from his seat.
“I need uh.. a towel. Maybe you should grab one too.. in a bit.” Jeno’s eyes scan your body. Brows lifting with suggestion.
“Why are you being weird.” You state, not question. Removing your sunglasses, sitting up fully. “If you wanna fuck in the pool house, just say that.”
“..and if you know what the fuck I mean, don’t be such a bitch.” Jeno’s low voice rasps. Having figured you out by now, the way you love to get him annoyed. To quote your words ‘It’s like my soul leaves my body when you fuck me full of hate’. Your hand lifts, waving Jeno away.
“Yea yea, go hide with the laundry. I’ll be there in a minute.” You watch Jeno try to subtly make his way to the shed. Pondering to yourself once again- what the hell are you doing? What started off as entertainment now turning into a huge problem. It was becoming a lot to handle. The constant hot and cold. Muddled insecure thoughts keeping you up at night. Jeno giving you enough- but not enough. As much as you tried to convince yourself he could dick you down like nobody else, it didn’t soothe your stacking questions. Why the fuck hadn’t he asked you to be with him yet, officially. Was this seriously going to be some friends.. step siblings with benefits crap forever?
There you go again, off on a mental tangent. Not even realizing you’ve sat there chewing on your thumb nail growing more irritable by the second. Didn’t he like you? How could this seriously be just sex after everything..
But the fucking.. God just thinking about Jeno’s dick had you tingling all over. Right right— Jeno’s dick. Standing up with a look inside the house, your parents backs facing you where they stand side by side at the stove cooking. You sneak your way toward the pool house. Opening the door to the sight of Jeno leaned back against the dryer. Stroking his hardening length to full mass. Sighing to yourself with relaxation taking over. Focusing in on the shine of precum gathered on tight abs.
“Fuck, what took you so long?” Jeno wraps around the base of his size with a groan. Stepping into the small space intended for one person only, letting the door shut behind you. Pressing against his body, feet touching trying to squeeze in.
“Jeno.. do you..” You start curiously. Hand hovering at the tip of his cock, eyes lingering over the expanse of chest before you. “..like me?”
Jeno’s eyes beg for mercy, watching your thumb softly graze his slit. Lips pulling in holding back another groan as his cock throbs. “Hate when you tease. You know I can’t stand that shit.”
Jeno turns you quickly, shoving your back forward until you’re bent over the dryer. Ass up and perky, hands slapping down on your exposed cheeks. “Already walk around tempting me to slip in whenever.”
“I think you like it..” your neck cranes, half lidded gaze on Jeno. Hard length beating on your ass, bouncing back with every drop. “..because you like me.”
“Fuck you’re so annoying.” Jeno mutters. Pulling the thin fabric between your cheeks aside. Cock pressing into your entrance, circling around. Only slightly aroused after watching him jerk off for barely a minute. Sighing, laying against the dryer, lips tightened when be pushes in. Jeno groaning behind you with growing frustration. Interrupted every time he’s tried to cum in the last 24 hours. Thrusting impatiently, cock sliding in deep.
“Like fucking you.” Jeno leans over, mumbling into your shoulder. Hips slamming against your ass, legs stiff in place. The little shed compressing you together tightly.
“I know.” Face out of sight, you roll your eyes. Biting down on your lip gripping around Jeno’s cock. He growls against your back, pounding in faster. Eager to chase release, balls tightening up feeling overly full. Completely concentrated on his own pleasure for once. The horny monster he’s been carrying around for over a day taking over. Hand barreling down on your ass, skin slapping together with every deep thrust delivered.
Jeno’s heavy breaths and grunts of exertion interrupted by the sound of heels hitting pavement. Your mothers voice calling your name out, vocals nearing as she walks around the pool.
Eyes widening with panic throwing Jeno a look over your shoulder. Droplets of sweat pooling down to his chin, landing hotly against your back. Low whimpers passing through gritted teeth, glaring toward the door. Head shaking, as his eyes squeeze shut pained. Slowly pulling out of you with a suppressed whimper. He sighs, standing up right. Your mothers voice seconds away from catching you bent over, winking hole desperately seeking your step brother.
Jeno curses to himself tucking away his cock, thinking fast. Grabbing a towel from the pile. Finger hushing you on his lips, exiting the pool house. Panting catching your breath, eyes shutting letting the anxiety and fear wash over you. It was getting old.
“Oh Jeno! What were you doing in there?” Your mothers voice questions. Jeno tugging the towel around his neck.
“Uh.. looking for a clean towel..” he scratches at his head. You stay ducked down inside the pool house watching between the wooden shutters. Wiping off any sweat, drying the tender area between your thighs. Your mom looks less than convinced, glaring at Jeno with interest. Her mouth parting open ready to further question him, head shaking as she moves on.
“Have you seen your sister?” She takes another look around the backyard. “I swore she came out here with you? You two are always together as of late.”
Jeno’s face ducks in, trying to hide his cringing. Hates how often your parents refer to you as actual siblings. He looks around, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly. “She.. you know what..”
Jeno wraps an arm around your moms shoulder, turning her to face toward the neighbors house. Ears listening for any movement behind him. Your moms expression turning confused as Jeno points to the house next door. “I think what they’ve done with their roofing is really great..”
“What are you going on about Jeno? Their roof looks exactly like ours.” Your mom shifts, beginning to turn back toward your house. You quietly make your way out, tip toeing along the hot concrete. Slowly ducked as you walk up behind them.
“What about the roof?” Standing up straight to join in on their conversation. Jeno’s tense frame relaxes, bodies fully turning to face you.
“There you are!” Your mother chides. Disgusts coating her features taking in your appearance. She tugs the towel off of Jeno’s body, wrapping it around you. “Sweetie what have I told you about walking around like this! What will the neighbors think?” She leans in closer, hissing into your ear. “Jeno is a young man! He could get ideas.”
Oh. If only she knew. You gently pry her hands away, holding the towel around yourself. “Yes mother.”
“I was looking for your darling! I have great news.” She pets your head, gaze turning adoring. “Your dad had a meeting today with an old friend. His son Mark just moved back from studying abroad. He’s going to be a doctor you know.”
Jeno’s eyes widen upon hearing Mark’s name. Shoulders stiffening up again, eyes darting between the two of you. Your brows raising with question as to what this has to do with you.
“This Friday Mark will be picking you up for lunch. A date! Isn’t that great!” She continues, face lit up like the sun. “My little girls gonna marry a doctor!”
“Mark Lee??” Jeno spits out abruptly. Familiar annoyance evident in his tone, to you.
“Oh yes, your father mentioned you two used to be the best of friends before he moved away! Ah you’re probably so excited to reunite!” Her arms wrap around Jeno’s waist with a tight hug. “Don’t you worry Jeno, I’m going to find you a pretty girl. Just give me some time!”
You and Jeno share a nervous stare. Hint of worry settling between his brows. Thoughts spinning with ‘what if’ and unknown possibilities.
————————————————————————
“Sweetie you look so pretty! Mark may just fall in love at first sight!” Your mother chirps loudly. Jeno conveniently seated at the couch, reading through some magazine. Or at least doing an awful job at pretending to be. Stare stuck on you being spun around. Jaw grinding roughly gazing at your outfit- when have you ever dressed like that for him?! He mutters under his breath, fingers yanking apart thin magazine pages in anger. Ripping past a few, sure enough receiving a tongue lashing from his father later for ruining with his Sports Illustrated.
“Thanks mom..” you nervously ring your hands. Nervous from Jeno’s intense eyes burning into your skin. Nervous about this blind date with some stranger.
“Now honey, shoulders back! Chest out! Stand up straight! You need to impress Mark! Your fathers depending on this deal with Marks dad to reach his monthly quota. Said he’ll surprise me with a trip to Aruba if he can land this contract! So you better do whatever it takes to make this Mark boy happy.” She implores, fussing with your hair. Adjusting your dress to expose more chest. God, what were you? An escort? With a fast glance Jeno’s way— realizing that’s your step brother you fuck on the regular now, worried about pissing him off with another guy? You may as well be.. what type of cheesy porn plot were you living..
The bell rings throughout the house interrupting your thoughts. Jeno shoots up from the couch, flexing arms shown off in a muscle tank. Shoulders rolling back, jogging forward before your mom has a chance to even speak up. He shouts out, heading for the door— “I’ll get it!”
“That must be him!” Your moms eyes scurry around, hands gripping your shoulders. She leads you down the hall. Watching Jeno pull open the door. Revealing a boy just a bit shorter than him wearing thick framed black glasses. Cheeks rising with an excited smile when he see’s Jeno.
“Oh man! Jeno?! It’s been so long!!” Mark and Jeno slap hands in some type of bro-like high five. Shoulders knocking together with one of those typical man hugs. Mark continues, high pitched voice happily calling out— “Birthday boyy!!”
Jeno laughs, malice deep in that chuckle, known to your ears only. Stare turning to your direction, cheeks sucking in looking you over again. Subconsciously crushing Marks hand in his hold until he let’s out a quiet abrupt squeak. Jeno crushes hard enough until he hears bone cracking, releasing Mark with an apology for not knowing his own strength.
“Hah….yea guess you were always freakishly strong..” Mark rubs at his knuckles. Following Jeno’s gaze. Jaw falling open in a cartoon like way. “Oh wow! No way this is my gorgeous date..”
Your mom shoves you forward, fingers digging into your spine. Smiling awkwardly as you approach Mark. Jeno’s neck cracking all too loud at your sides. The intimidation rolling off of him like powerful waves. Mark admiring you with bright excited eyes. Too distracted with Jeno’s presence yourself to give him your full attention.
“What a handsome young man!” Your mother chimes in. Stepping in front of Jeno, wrapping her boney fingers around Mark’s elbow. “Now you take care of my angel. I’m entrusting her to you!”
“Oh yes Ma’m, of course. You can count on me.” Mark nods. Smiles beaming between the two of them. Trying your hardest to avoid looking Jeno’s way. Vision blurring over from pretending to watch the two of them. Ready to get this stupid date over with.
Mark extends a hand to you. Not the same one he was still secretly nursing at his side. “Shall we?”
With another forced smile, you nod taking a hold of him. Heading out to his car, opening the door for you like a true gentleman. One last glance to the front door as Mark starts up the engine. Your mom smiling ear to ear on the porch.
Jeno behind her like a dark cloud. Eyes full of silent threats.
——————————————————————————
The date with Mark hadn’t been as terrible as you anticipated. Allowing him to take reign of the conversation majority of the time. Pretending to stay interested in what he had to say. Taking extra long chews of your meal throwing in “hmmm” and “ahh” enough to humor him.
“When can I take you out again?” Mark walks you to the entrance of your house. Eyes near bulging out of your skull hearing the question— again?!?
“Oh uh, you have my number right? My schedules all over.” You respond with another forced smile. Hands flailing around to emphasize just how all over it was. During summer? Anything to make it believable.
Unaware of the eyes inside watching from behind a window.
“I’m too eager right? I just..” Mark scratches at his nape, cheeks rising in a smile. “I felt something between us..”
Huh?? Blinking repeatedly, twisting your keys around in hand. Stepping toward the door remembering your mothers words- “Don’t mess this up.”
“It’s ok Mark, I had fun..” you bite down on your lip nervously thinking over how to end this smoothly. Hand behind your back squeezing at the door handle as Mark inches in closer. His hands landing around your head against the frame.
“I have my own place, maybe next time you can come over to mine after?” His brows raise suggestively. Mouth dangerously hovering all too close to yours as shoes bump into each other. Mark leaning in even closer, diminishing the space between your bodies. You blink rapidly, quickly trying to come up with something.
Mark’s hand sliding down, stroking over your hair. Leaned in, breathing over your mouth whispering— “You’re so pretty.. love your lips.”
Mark dips in, thin lips pressing against yours with a moan. You press into the door, knob digging into your lower back. Mouth stiffly gliding against his. Stickiness on your glossy lips making it even more uncomfortable. Mark continues letting out little moans, lower half connecting to yours. Only a centimeter of a gap stopping you from fully touching groins. It wasn’t the worst kiss, no not at all. If anything you were the one making it bad. Guilt running rampant through your mind— not that it should be. Your damn feelings refusing to let that be the case.
“Hope we can see each other again sooner than later..” Mark pulls off only slightly. Huffing out breaths of air between whispered words. His lips now gleaming with evidence of what just took place. You can’t help but notice Jeno’s car parked in the drive way behind Mark’s head. Like some type of unfortunate warning.
“Yea….uh… text me… or yea.” With a stuttered out nod, you jab your keys into the door. Tempted to kick the stupid thing open. Throwing Mark a wave goodbye before running inside. Falling back against it once inside the house. Hand grabbing at your chest with widening eyes. Heart beating furiously— not because of Mark. Not really, more so the fear of getting caught by-
The brooding large figure stepping toward you. Chin tilted in, eyes maddening scowling down at you. Jeno walking forward, hidden by the unlit hallway. Low light coming in from outside crossing his strong infuriated features. Your messy lips parting open, sloppy words attempting to explain.
“Don’t.” One word, one impending word. That raspy word tumbling from his lips meeting your ears. Curling into yourself, limbs beginning to tremble. Jeno placing a hand above your head. Pretty muscles appearing terrifying, in a way you can’t stop yourself from obsessing over. His finger lifting your chin up, to look at him. “You thought I wasn’t gonna find out, didn’t you?”
“No.. It’s not..” you can’t control the whimper breaking your words. Jeno’s looming frame and dark eyes stirring heat inside of you uncontrollably. Why did he have to be so fucking hot when he got like this. It seemed unfair, almost.
“You think I’m stupid. That I don’t know how easy you’ll go spread your legs for anyone. Probably couldn’t wait to try and hop on Mark’s dick once you found out he’s my friend.” Jeno’s intimidation never failing to make you feel like a speck of nothing. Sinister stare blaring into you, hands wrapping around your neck.
Dizzying thoughts broken by the sound of clinking pots and pans traveling down the hall from the kitchen. Jeno’s dads boisterous laughter following, saying something to your mother. Your throat squeezes in fear, gripping around his wrists. Head shaking ‘no’ in plea.
“You can’t.. they’re home..” begging, knowing that look on Jeno’s face can only mean one thing. Imminent smirk slowly appearing on his lips. Yanking you away from the front door, releasing you with a shove into the hallway wall.
“You better be fucking quiet then.” Jeno presses up against you, hissing mean words into your ear. Forcing your front against the wall, memories racing from the last time you’d been here. The first time, how unforgiving and punishing he was. Your forehead rubbing against the scratchy plaster, core igniting with fire. Hard cock grinding into your ass wickedly.
“Jeno, we can’t!” Your hushed whining does nothing to satiate him. Hips jerking up into you aggressively already. Jeno like a caged wolf trying to escape by any means necessary.
“We can. I can. You want to play games right? You’re fucking bored? Don’t even cum when I fuck you anymore?” Jeno’s hips continuously piston upward, fat bulge shoving the material of your dress up.
“J-Jeno..” pitiful cries break between your muted whimpers. “Please… they’ll hear us..”
“I don’t care. Stupid fucking whore.” Jeno licks up your cheek, leaving a trail of saliva. “You better make sure they don’t. Want me to fuck you baby?”
Your eyes glaze over, panting against the wall. Jeno’s hands shoving your dress up to your waist. He nips along your jaw, nose digging into your cheek. “Want me buried deep in that cunt don’t you? Answer me.”
Your core throbs at his words, desperation and need for Jeno turning you into a useless mess. Eyes shutting nodding slowly, with a soft cry whining out— “ple..please fuck me.”
“That’s what I thought baby.” All you can hear over your parents voices just down the hallway was Jeno’s belt unbuckling. Zipper slowly pulling down, heartbeat racing in your ears from nerves and excitement. If they heard you two…the outcome could not end well. He didn’t seem to give a fuck, heavy cock slapping on your cheeks repeatedly. Deep throaty groans mixing in with his thick meat landing on your ass. Knee’s buckling in against the wall, teeth digging into your lip hard enough to draw blood.
Jeno shoves a thigh between yours, pushing you apart. Your lower back instinctively arching out. Muffling words against your ear about what a good little slut you are, always ready to spread open for him.
“You’re so fucking wet. What kind of slut get’s off like this? Letting your step brother fuck you where anyone can see?” Fingers swipe up and down your slit. Wetness drenching Jeno’s fingers, embarrassing loud squelches passing with every rough circle at your entrance. His fingers drag, flicking your clit meanly. Rubbing only for a short moment, smacking taps against the hardening bud.
“Jen…Jeno…pl-please..” you croak out, burning up in embarrassment. Burning up in arousal, thick fingers languidly dragging in the mess between your legs. Jeno’s cock glides between your thighs, folds spreading over his size. Cock head teasing your clit with delicious friction.
Jeno presses lips against your ear again, tongue swirling inside. Hot mouth engulfing you, massaging around. Lapping wet sounds echoing in your drifted mind. Pulling off with a wet smack against your lobe. “Needy slut.”
At last thrusting in, cock splitting you apart in one go. Hips stilling against your ass, steadying himself as your tight heat hungrily sucks him in. Jeno’s forehead rolls around your upper back, feeling delirious savoring your clenching pussy. Hardness pulsating inside of you dying to be unleashed.
“Needed my cock so badly didn’t you baby?” Jeno’s hot words pant inside your ear. Tone laced with possessive intent. His fingers find your mouth, pulling your lower lip free from your teeth. Sliding over your tongue hanging out like you have no control. Exactly how he likes you, fucked to the point of brain emptiness. No thoughts to obscure your stimulation. The only thing on your mind him, the only thing filling you up Jeno’s cock.
“Fuck..” Jeno heatedly gasps against your ear. Sliding out with a strained expression, biting down a throaty growl. Pulling out to the tip momentarily, sheathing deep inside with a roll forward. A shocked loud squeak bursting from your mouth. Eyes widening as Jeno picks up a pace, relentlessly fucking up into you.
“Did you hear that hun?” Your moms vocals reach your ears. Questioning her husband from the kitchen. Tense worry shooting up your spine, hand slapping at Jeno’s hip. Scratching sharp nails across the dip of muscle commanding to stop before you get caught. Jeno’s hand slaps over your mouth, throwing himself into you mercilessly. Quietly screaming into his palm, cock spearing you over and over.
“Always so good for me aren’t you? Pussy always so good for me.” Jeno mutters against your forehead. Cock ramming into you so hard, balls smacking loudly against your ass with every thrust.
Jeno’s pace never falters, as if he was built to ruin you. Continuing to slam into you with ferocity. Hips pounding against you hard enough to bruise. You were only good for him because he was always so good for you.
Silent hisses squeeze through his teeth from the stinging pain your delivering to his lower half. Nails leaving marks behind, light pink and red lines of blood surfacing over skin. Only turning him on further. His teeth sink into the juncture of your neck viciously, muttering against your skin.
“Be. Fucking. Quiet.” The hand covering your mouth jerks with every intense deep thrust. Cock gliding in too deliciously, reaching the depths of your insides. Jeno such a fast learner, figuring out exactly how to make you go mental. How you loved to put up a fight until he fucked you stupid. Feeling limp in his hold, like the little dumb cocksleeve he always managed to turn you into.
Your mother complains about hearing another loud sound. Head shaking under Jeno’s hold, eyes rolling back too far into your skull to give enough of a shit. Jeno growls snapping forward brutally, every slide of his cock stretching you open too damn good. Muffled screams get lost in his palm. Toes scuffing the floor as orgasm rushes through you all too intensely. Jeno squeezing in his lips, face shoving into your neck.
Faintly your moms voice says “I’m gonna go check.”
Jeno bottoms out with each thrusts in. Features squeezing, fucking through your spasming tight heat. Your body shuddering between his and the wall, the only things keeping you held up. Jeno bites down on the back of your neck with a deep groan. Balls squeezing up, mouth shaking as teeth sink into your skin deeply. Cum exploding past your walls— stored up for too long as far as Jeno’s concerned. Teeth sunken into your neck jerking with every spurt of cum released. Your watery eyes squeezing trying to suppress any sounds behind his hand.
Foot steps make their way in closer. Jeno pulling out swiftly, licking at your damaged skin. Moving your hair back to cover any marks left. Panties around your knees lifted back up, squishing uncomfortably against your wrecked swollen core. Cum spilling into the cotton you’d end up throwing away.
“Good girl.” Jeno pecks your chin, moving you both away from the wall. With fast movements, he opens the front door. Your mother rounding the corner just as Jeno finishes tucking himself back in, zipping up discretely.
“Oh sweetie! You’re back already?” She smiles. Eyes scanning you suspiciously. Taking in your less than neat appearance. “Did you let that Mark boy kiss you already?! On the first date!”
Your head shakes, face ducking into your chest. Jeno locking the front door shut, sneering at your side. Technically you had kissed Mark.. technically.
“I want to hear all about it!” She grips your arm, pulling you into an embrace. “Time for dinner anyway kids! Let’s eat and tell me all about how lovely Mark was.”
You scream to yourself, struggling to walk straight by her side. Jeno’s menacing figure at your back, mocking you. Sticky cum reminding you for the next hour what a whore you are.
——————————————————————————-
“A second date?! You agreed to a second date?! What’s wrong with you?” Jeno’s mad. Face heated, veins along his neck pulsating. Fists rolled up into tight balls at his sides, squeezing down to hold in anger.
“Jeno I couldn’t say no! My mom isn’t exactly aware me and you are a thing you know. She said she’s gonna stop paying for my monthly subscriptions if I’m not nice to this Mark guy!” Both of you scream back and forth at each other with your parents out of the house momentarily. What should have been the perfect opportunity to get dicked down turning into a fight. Your mom mentioning on her way out that you’d need a new outfit to impress Mark on your next date. Rage filling up Jeno’s head the minute he heard the words ‘second date’ enthusiastically dripping from your mothers lips.
“Monthly subscriptions?? A fucking monthly subscription is more important than..” Jeno’s head drops back letting out a deep breath. Fingers stretching, cracking knuckles. Rolling his neck back and forth. “You have to come up with something. You need to cancel. I don’t want you anywhere near him again.”
“I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that. Why are you making this into such a big? Quit acting like you’re my boyfriend, we’re just fucking right?” Responding snarky, arms crossing over your chest leaning against your bedroom wall. Jeno’s eyes connect with you, clouded in hostility.
“Again with this boyfriend shit? What do you want from me?” He steps into your space, neck leaning forward. Eyebrow muscles straining with tension. “If this is just to piss me off cause you’re fucking bored with me then say that. Quit wasting my time.”
“Excuse me?” You exasperate, standing up straight. Shoving weakly at Jeno’s sturdy chest. “Wasting your time? Wasting YOUR time? You’ve had me chasing you around for how long now? and still won’t even admit that you like me.”
Jeno scoffs, folding his flexed biceps across his chest now. Turning away, pacing in front of your bed. “You’re never gonna let this shit go are you?” He stops, glaring at the ceiling mumbling to himself. “This was a mistake. Fucked all my friends and I still wanted you.”
“You need to let it go. You deserved that after everything I’ve put up with from you.. you know what just! Just leave me alone! I don’t want to be around you right now.” Groaning to yourself frustrated. Bored with him?! Wasting his time? How fucking dare he—
Jeno scoops you up, hands wrapping around your thighs. Moving swiftly over to your bed, seating with you in his lap. Apologetic eyes searching for yours, typical.. and you caved every freaking time.
“I didn’t handle this correctly..” Jeno’s fingers sweep along your jaw. Pushing hair away from your face. Face pressing in, whispering words over your lips. Voice low and sweet, using that cute side he rarely shows to get his way. “Almost forgot who I was dealing with here..”
He’s fast with manhandling you, always so fast. Aiding the helpless dizzy state of mind only Jeno knows how to get you to. Who were you to deny that this is how you liked it best. Subconsciously begging to be tormented when you agreed to that second date with Mark. You couldn’t say no anyway, but the idea of Jeno taking out his anger on you again making it all the more enticing.
Bending you over, catching a glint of that jealousy in his eye. A reminder that he’d do anything to have you. He didn’t have to try with you, as if you wore underwear around his presence anymore. Just so they could be ruined like the other night again? Jeno willing to remind you who exactly you belong to at any given moment. Waiting for the day he breaks and fucks you without a care in the world for who could end up finding you.
“You think you can just go around kissing whoever the fuck you want?” Jeno has you bent over on his knees. Slapping a heavy hand down on your bared ass roughly. Stinging pain surging up your back with each land. Delivering another smack with hissed angry words. “Why are you such a whore? Don’t I fuck you enough?”
“Jeno!” Your teeth grind together, suppressing another whimpered shout. Jeno’s rough slaps burning into your skin. Pathetic begging does nothing to stop him. Mind repeating the visual of you letting that guy press up against you in a heated kiss. “J-Jeno…you’re being too mean!”
“Am I?” He squeezes at your scolding ass. Fingers digging in harsh enough for scattered bruising to appear by morning. Jeno pulls your cheeks open, spit slowly dripping from his lips. Watching the drool slide down your ass, between your folds. “Nasty whore.. letting anyone and anything get a taste.”
His fingers rub spit between your folds. Circling your winking entrance. Scoffing out a tsk— “I’m too mean, but you’re so wet just like a dumb slut. My dumb slut. Only mine.”
“No Jeno! I’m not yours!” His hand comes to a halt, fingers slipping away. Tongue jabbing inside the side of his cheek.
“What did you just fucking say?” Delivering another thwack across your ass. Jeno growls, pushing you off on to the bed. Screaming out when you land, skin on your backside hot to the touch.
“All that attitude..” Jeno stands, palm digging into your lower back. Belly sinking lower against the mattress. Mounting the backs of your thighs, other hand working his belt buckle open. Your ears attentive to every sound, leather belt strap passing through loops of his jeans. Folding up the belt with one hand easily. The visual alone enough to send a rush of wetness seeping out of you. Jeno’s deep rasp breaking your thoughts with question— “..just begging to be punished.”
You hear the loud crack before the pain settles in. Belt landing down on your cheeks harshly. Ass shaking, soreness moving up your spine. Head jolting up with shock, stinging surge around your lower half. Jeno whipping you repeatedly with his belt. Hand on your lower back moving off, gripping your hair in a viscous tug up. “Whose are you then? Who else fucking does this to you?”
You cry out in response. Thighs squeezing tightly, core begging for any attention. Feet beating on the edge of your bed. Jeno dropping the belt, hand landing on your ass with a tight grip. Fingers digging into meaty flesh, parting you open. Shoving your head forward, suffocating you against the sheets. Coughing cries spewing out between gasped breaths. Jeno releasing you, finger finding your rim. Circling around the tight twitching hole.
“This is mine.” Spit falls from Jeno’s lips slowly. Finger teasing your backside, smearing shining drool around. “Pretty little hole, waiting to be filled with me. Begs for me only.”
Jeno lifts his hand, fingers dragging around his tongue. Coating the appendages in spit nastily. Other hand pulling out his cock, stroking himself to full hardness. Leaking precum already, eyes focused on your spasming hole. Your pretty sobs and whimpers making it all the more satisfying.
“..but you don’t fucking deserve it.” His cock slaps down heavily between your ass. Back arching forward with another shout out. Jeno alternating pressing wet fingers at your puckered rim with smacks of his cock.
“Jeno..” your neck lifts, sobbing wet eyes meeting his over your shoulder. Evil glare sending another shot of hot nerves throughout you. His eyes stay on you, hands slapping your ass. Gripping your cheeks sharply, spreading you open. Both holes glistening in wetness, crying to be touched. Jeno doesn’t look down, hard cock sweeping up and down. Delicious friction making your eyes flutter, tempting to roll up.
“Messy baby. My pretty messy baby.” Jeno licks over his lips. Lustful gaze stirring up heat deep in you. Hard length grinding over your quivering holes. Fingers painfully dug into your ass. Jeno’s hips speeding up, humping your backside with force. Your bed shakes, headboard hitting the wall. Loud enough for anyone listening to figure out what’s happening in your room. Grateful you were home alone.
Jeno leans forward, hands wrapping around your neck from behind. Wildly fucking you down into the bed. Ass bouncing back against his sharp hip bones. Squeals and moans of pleasure constricting in your throat. Jeno’s fingers pressed down hard on your windpipe. Throbbing fat cock hammering thrusts up and down your slicked up holes repeatedly. His tight abs twitching, nearing release with each firm slam down.
Jeno caves, moans passing from his tightened lips. Blending together with the sound of your bed squeaking. Skin slapping against skin loudly as his speed increases faster. Chasing release, using your body. It’s too much even for you, sweet teasing friction pushing you to the edge. Jeno using you like his little fuck toy whose sole purpose is to get him off feeling too good.
“J-Jeno..” your tongue falls out, gasping for air. Jeno’s deathly squeeze cutting off more of your oxygen. Mind clouding over, lower half convulsing. Cumming around nothing, hole desperately pulsing. Wishing for him to fuck you into overstimulation. Hungry to get stretched around his size again, dreaming of aching with soreness.
Jeno groans out noisily, going crazy watching your eyes rolled back- tongue lawled out. Hips stuttering, lifting up with a shout. Neck dropping, cum shooting out vigorously. Flat stomach sinking in, back arching. Cum landing in copious amounts over your spine and ass. Dripping to your craving hole. He screams out curses, hands releasing you. Wiping at his sweaty face. Falling forward breathing heavily, cum smearing between your bodies.
Jeno pants against your forehead, pecking softly at your damp sweating skin. With a tired sigh, he laps at your cheek. Like a puppy leaving you covered in sorrowful kisses. His tone the opposite, quietly hissing into your ear. “Cancel the date.”
——————————————————————————-
“Three thousand for one month, fucking hell...I’m gonna have to kiss dads ass hard.” Jeno curses under his breath scrolling through an app. Jaemin hovered over his shoulder with curiosity.
“That one looks nice! Hey if you let me crash I’ll split the rent with you?” His eyes wiggle around with excitement. Gripping Jeno’s bicep with a shake.
“Dude no. I’m trying to rent this place so I can fuck without interruptions. So tired of pulling out before I can nut.” Jeno pushes him away. Finger continuously sliding across his phone screen in search.
“Parents home too much huh?” Haechan lays back on the bleachers between Jaemins legs. Glasses shifting on the bridge of his nose as his neck drops. “That’s what happens when you’re fucking your step sister you dirty pervert.”
“You know Jeno, three thousand split four ways isn’t half bad. We all hit it anyway..” Renjun joins in, elbowing Jeno’s knee from where he’s seated next to Haechan.
“You fucking assholes seriously need to stop talking about her like that. She only fucked you shrivel dicks to piss me off.” Jeno shuts his phone off growing too irritated with his friends constant taunts about you.
“Hey man, ignore them” Jaemin pats his shoulder, other arm wrapping around Haechans neck with a squeezing choke. “Want me to kill them for you?”
“Dick!” Haechan croaks out, hands pulling at Jaemins forearm currently holding him in a chokehold.
“Don’t act so innocent Jaem, you fucked her even after Jeno asked you not to.” Renjun pipes in, turning around nodding Jeno’s way.
“It’s not like she’s his girlfriend!” Haechans vocals boom out, wiggling free of Jaemins grip. He rubs at his reddened neck, elbowing the stomach behind his head. “Fucking meathead.”
“She’s... we’re taking things slow” Jeno grits, neck veins pulsing with anger. A round of scoffs even from Jaemins lips responding.
“Slow?! You two fucked on webcam in front of us! How is that slow?” Renjuns mouth drops laughing out in disbelief.
“I guess if you compare that to I don’t know? A pizza delivery guy with his cock inside the box on porn hub sure” Haechan and Renjun share a high five joining together in laughter. Jaemins own face ducked into his shoulder with tight lips.
“That was just for you assholes to know she fucked you to get to me. She’s obsessed with me. I’m the one waking up with that slut sucking my dick everyday.” Jeno smacks both of them in the nape. Hisses and pained neck rubs following.
“Obsessed but isn’t even your girlfriend.... right right. Dude I knew she was using me, I’m not an idiot. I was kinda into it! Think she’s the type to slap me around you know.” Haechan leans over, chin perched on Jeno’s knee. “Come on dude, it’s not like we’ve never shared. We all know jealousy gets your dick all hard.”
“That’s kinda gay bro” Renjun places his chin along Jeno’s other knee, smile stretched out across his face. “But the part about getting slapped around.. I wouldn’t mind feeling used again honestly.”
“Only one that’s gonna be slapping anything is me.” Jaemin adds, chin returning to Jeno’s shoulder. “You too of course man.”
“I’m never gonna let you idiots touch her again.” Jeno stands abruptly, jerking them all away in surprise. Shoulders tight and flexed turning to stomp away.
Jeno questioning to himself if you even deserve any of this anymore. Groaning as he settles in his car, head resting against the steering wheel. Of course you deserve this, he’d give you anything you want- that he could realistically come through with. That was the problem, you were too hard headed to see where he was coming from.
A month alone, just the two of you.. would be magical. Uninterrupted without having to worry about parents, friends. Just the two of you finally able to be yourselves, enjoy each other to the fullest. You both deserved this.
Jeno unlocks his phone scrolling back to the beach villa. Highly aware he still wasn’t fully capable to afford this on his own, but choosing to worry about that later. Even if it meant putting it on credit in the mean time, it’d be worth it. He finalizes the online contract agreeing to all the house owners rules. Hitting the last options before reading that he’s booked the villa.
Excitement passes through him like the engine coming to life in his car. Tapping at the steering wheel overly excited, picturing your face once he surprised you with the news.
——————————————————————————-
“Why are you all dressed up?” Jeno enters your room. Happy smile faltering from his face a little. Eyes taking in the tightly form fitting all too short dress barely covering your body. Phone in hand ready to surprise you with perfect summer plans. “We’re not…we don’t have plans right?”
You let out a sigh, opening up a tube of lip gloss. Eyes shifting back and forth in the mirror. Looking at Jeno’s confused expression, looking at your own worried one.
“No…we….we don’t..” turning to face him, you step in close. Hands wrapping around Jeno’s waist. Bouncing on your feet with fear, hesitation. “Jeno.. promise me you won’t get mad..”
Jeno’s brows lift in question. Stressed forehead muscles showing more concern than he voicing out. “Why would I be mad?”
“..I have another date..with Mark..” you start, Jeno immediately shoving you off of his body. Taking steps back, face coated in disgusts.
“You’re joking. You have to be fucking joking.” His worry instantly turning to anger. Fists rolling tight at his sides. “I told you to cancel.”
“and I told you I can’t do that!” You hiss out, parents just downstairs.
Jeno’s phone burns in his pocket, anger racing throughout his system. Remembering the fine print in the contract- no refunds. His hands lift up, growling pissed off. Smacking the sides of his head.
“I’m so fucking stupid for trusting you.” His eyes squeeze shut, fuming all over.
“Jeno it’s not a big deal! I don’t even like him!” You huff, trying to pull his hands away. Worried he’ll hurt himself. Jeno rips away from you shaking his head.
“What about my friends? Did you even like them?!” The question leaves you silent. Lips parting ready to argue and defend yourself. Jeno’s hurtful glare sending pinches throughout your chest. Ugly sickness coiling in your gut. The fun of it all diminishing quickly.
“I like you.” Your face drops, guilt drenching over you. Awkwardly rubbing your arm, a different type of humiliation sinking into you.
Jeno scoffs, opening your door to leave. “No. You really don’t.”
——————————————————————————
“The deposit for the beach villas non-refundable. Fuck, I’m an idiot. I was starting to trust her..” Jeno’s head drops, ripping at chunks of hair frustrated.
“That’s no problem dude. We’ll help you pay the rest. An entire month at the beach? You’ll be so deep in ass, won’t even remember what she looks like anymore.” Jeno’s three best friends nod, patting his back with reassurance.
“What’d she do anyway?” Haechan returns his focus to the tv screen. Fingers jabbing at the controller in his hands, thumbs shifting left and right. Jeno groans, head falling back on the couch. Haechan sitting on the floor between his legs. All of them gathered in Jaemin’s basement playing, Renjun and Haechan currently attempting to kill each other in Mortal Kombat. 
Jeno drove over here after abandoning you, probably on your date anyway. Yelling at himself while angry sad music blasted from his car speakers on the way over. Repeating over how could he be so stupid, how could he think anything good could come out of this thing you two had going. His own fault for thinking his childhood.. crush, obsession, whatever it was, meant anything.
“You guys remember Mark right?” Jeno sighs, can’t get the image of you and Mark kissing out of his head. Fists ripping a hole into the punching bag at the gym last night just thinking about it.
“Oh dude yea, he’s back huh? I ran into him the other day, he was rushing though. Picking up flowers for a date or some shit.” Haechan responds, head nudging Jeno’s knees. Screaming at Renjun for cheating as the tv speakers yell out a menacing “FINISH HIM!”
“You’re fucking dead!” Renjun laughs out. Blocking the pillow Haechan starts hitting him with. “Sore loser.”
“What about Mark?” Jaemin asks, leaning into Jeno’s side on the couch.
“Yea well…..she was his date. She’s actually on a date with him right now.”
Three wide eyes look at Jeno, jaws flying open with a simultaneous round of “WHAT?!”.
Jeno runs a hand through his hair. Headache starting after hours of overthinking. Hates how he can’t stop thinking about you. Hates thinking about any of this shit at all. “Her mom set them up. Marks dads some CEO, I don’t know some bullshit deal my dads trying to lock at work. Something stupid. Dating’s bad enough as it is, but she kissed him.” 
“Aw man.. I guess you should have assumed..” Jaemin rubs his neck, contemplating the situation. Always Jeno’s more logical-reasonable comrade. “She.. wasn’t ever really innocent.”
“You can take the hoe off the streets, but can’t take the street out of the hoe.” Haechan shrugs.
“Can’t make a hoe a housewife I believe is the saying.” Renjun adds in, chin nodding.
“We know you liked her bu-..” Jaemin begins, Jeno glaring at him before interrupting.
“I don’t fucking like her! We just fuck cause.. convenience.”
The three friends share a knowing look, mouths opening and shutting. Haechan letting out a low whistle, turning to face Jeno.
“You’re right dude. Pussy is pussy though. We’re gonna be at the beach next week, she won’t even exists to you anymore. Bikinis? Tan lines? Wet titties? You’re gonna be neck deep in pussy. All of us will be!” Haechan cheers, high fiving Jaemin.
“It’ll be our fun party boys summer finally. Our coming of age moment or some shit.” Renjun nods, adding to Haechan’s speech.
“Think I came of age Freshman year when I was getting my first hand job in the janitor’s closet.” Jaemin throws in.
“I was there. Unfortunately. In her other hand.” Renjun grimaces. “Wonder whatever happened to that girl…made us both cum..”
Jeno groans, growing irritated with their banter. “Whatever, you guys have money right?” 
His friends all answer yes in response, whipping out their phones to send payment directly to Jeno’s bank account.
“Fun party boy summer! Fuck yea!” 
————————————————————————
It was in fact- not the fun party boy summer. It was the fun party boys and sulky moody emo Jeno. Scaring off more girls with his miserable state of mind than anything. Sleeping in hours upon days. Snapping at his friends efforts to cheer him up. Refusing to hook up with any of the girls they picked up after beach activities. More depressing than anything, like a black cloud raining on the fun party boy parade.
“We should have a party.” Jaemin floats around the backyard pool. Haechan and Renjun sitting to the side with their feet dipped in.
“We’ve been having parties.” Renjun groans, nursing a hangover with an ice pack on his forehead.
“No I mean like…” Jaemin sighs. “I hate seeing Jeno like this. He’s gonna regret it, you know he is.. we should get his fucking step sister out here. He can say he doesn’t like her but.. what the fuck dude!” His head shakes, droplets pouring off wet hair. Stating the obvious, the unspoken. Whether they discuss it or not, all aware of what’s really happening here.
“He’s totally gonna regret it. What are we supposed to do though? I don’t talk to her..” Renjun interjects. Sitting up on his elbows, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose.
“Wait a minute..” Haechan sits up next to him, toes wiggling around in the water. Unlocking his phone. “I still have her added! I’ll tell her to come over.. wait no. What if she won’t cause of Jeno?”
“That’s a good point..” Wheels in Jaemin’s head spin, trying to concoct a plan. Wet fingers snapping, hand splashing into the water. “Mark! Invite Mark! Tell him to bring a date!”
“Is that.. really a good idea?” Renjun’s brow lifts. Imagining the terrible scenarios that could ensue if both you and Mark show up together.
“What else are we gonna do? Look once they show up, we’ll separate them. Distract Mark and Jeno can go get his dick wet. Get him to stop acting like a fucking brat. It’s too much dude! He blew up on my hook up last night for using the bathroom! She left before I even got it in!” Jaemin growls in frustration. He loves Jeno he does, but the lack of maturity was becoming exhausting. Ruining his summer fun, all of theirs.
“Might as well right?” Haechan pulls up Mark’s account while Jaemin’s talking, sending him a direct message. “Mark said he’d love to come over by the way.”
“I really don’t think this is a good idea..” Renjun voices. Lips pouting together in concern.
“What could go wrong?”
——————————————————————————
“Why do we ever fucking listen to you Haechan!” Jaemin hisses, finger jabbing at the other man. Not one to typically lose his cool, currently beyond stressed out after Jeno blew up at them. “What could go wrong? What could go wrong! What could go fucking wrong! Ugh!”
Haechan scoffs, drying off his hair with a towel. Unsuccessful in dodging Jeno’s brutal toss into the pool. Landing like a huge canon ball, splashing water on half of the party attendees. No complaints since it was starting to look like a girls gone wild compilation. “Dude! It’s not my fault Jeno’s such an asshole.”
“I literally said this wouldn’t be a good idea. You guys never listen to me! We have to stop giving in to Haechan.” Renjun implores, adding another finger poking into Haechan’s damp stomach. Yea, that wasn’t going to happen.
Haechan rolls his eyes, averting his attention to where you’re bent over. Ass grinding up against Mark behind you, looking like he’s having the time of his life. Not that you’re aware or probably care at all. Your gaze stuck on Jeno across the deck. Pacing back and forth by the pool. Shushing every girl approaching him, even throwing out “fuck off” with the all too persistent ones.
“She’s such a whore” Haechan laughs, impressed really. “We have to get Mark out of here or something man. Jeno looks like he’s about to pop a vessel. He’s exhausting, deciding to have feelings all of a sudden!”
“Definitely- if we keep letting this happen. I’m his emergency contact in case we need to call 911.. but if he kills Mark before his neck bursts- I can’t help him.” Jaemin shrugs. Attempting to make light of the situation, eyes shifting around nervously none the less. Completely understands why Jeno would be pissed, maybe not this angry- since he “doesn’t like you” and all.
“They’re both crazy, it’s.. romantic in some low budget coming of age teen film type of way. Ours was shooting our loads together in a smelly janitors closet. Jeno’s.. is fucking his step sister.” Renjun grimaces, head tilting side to side. Watching you and Mark bump uglies awkwardly around groups of girls in bikinis. Awkward because no one else is dancing.. just you two. “Maybe that’s all of our coming of age story… we all.. fucked her. God, how are we still alive?”
“Dude you’re so weird.” Haechan’s face turns serious, slowly blinking at Renjun. Eyes shutting letting out a tired huff. He grips Jaemin’s shoulders, pulling them back in a stretch. “Listen, you’re his best butt buddy..”
“Fuck you.” Jaemin shoves him off. Haechan’s smile reappearing.
“Buy me dinner first. I’m not as easy as Jeno’s step sister.” Corners of his mouth lift pleased, lowly muttering to Jaemin. “Go distract Mark somehow. We’ll work on her once you separate them.”
“Why do I have to go with you?” Renjun questions Haechan, losing trust in him by the minute.
“It’s funnier this way.” Haechan drags Renjun away, fingers snapping Jaemin’s direction. “Get to work!”
Jaemin groans, cursing Haechan in his mind. Imagining hands around his neck choking him until he passes out. Enjoying the idea too much with a smile on his face, feet leading him to Jeno.
“What the fuck are you smiling about?” Jeno snarls. Shoulders all rounded and flexing, appearing more intimidating than usual. Eyes squinted in a furious glare, only sparing Jaemin a glance for a second before returning to you. “Can’t fucking believe you idiots invited her. Of course she came with Mark, anything to piss me off.”
“Technically..” Jaemin ponders before finishing his sentence. “Haechan invited Mark… and well.. we didn’t uh, anticipate a guest..”
Jeno’s hand shoots up, halting in Jaemin’s face. “Enough. Go tell her she needs to leave. Mark too, I can’t pretend right now.”
Jaemin’s mouth falls open with displeasure. Half a mind to tell Jeno off.. but knows better than to poke at a lion hunting it’s prey. Thinking fast yet again, his fingers snap with an idea.
“I’m gonna fix this Jeno.” He searches for a cooler, scooping up a can of beer. Crisp bubbling sound ticking with a pull on the tab. Stumbling his way over to you and Mark.
Marks eyes trained on your ass, yours practically reflecting Jeno’s image. Jaemin anxiously taking a sip hoping this works.
“Ah, Mark Leeeeeeeee” he falls forward, arm hanging off of Mark’s neck. He drawls out with a big dumb smile- “I’m sooo fucking drunk Mark Leeeeee.”
“Woah there buddy” Marks eyes widen, arms wrapping around Jaemin’s waist. Helping him stand up straight. “Maybe it’s time to lay off the drinks.”
“Ahhh, I really need to. Jeno’s all mad cause we ran out of his favorite white claw flavors.” He tosses a nod at Jeno’s seething form. Mark awe struck his friend could get so angry over something so minuscule. “I need to drive to the store and get him some moreee.”
“Dude no way! You can’t drive like this!” Mark looks at you, arms crossed over your chest staring Jeno down. “I’ll go.. I haven’t drank since I drove. You wanna come with?” He asks you. Jaemin stealing glances your way praying you say no.
“Uhm. No thanks.” Score, of course your bratty ass played right into the palm of his hand. Lower lip sucking in to hide the triumphant smile wanting to show itself.
“Alright, I’ll be right back!” Mark leans forward for a kiss. Quickly turning, lips landing against your ear squishily.
“Sure whatever” wiping at your ear as discretely. Jaemin catching it out of the corner of his eye, thanking Mark as he mumbles about how cute you are playing hard to get. He slumps over, watching him exit out through the backyard entrance, spinning toward you in one quick motion.
“You.” Jaemin’s fingers snap, gripping your elbow. He drags you along, crossing the deck. “Tired of you and Jeno’s bullshit.”
“What the fuck, let me go!” You screech out, scratching nails down Jaemin’s arm. His lips pouting out with a sarcastic hiss.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten you like to mark up and claw.” He finishes with a wink, your mouth parting open. Stopping abruptly in front of Jeno.
“Jaemin. What. The. Fuck.” Jeno grits, refusing to look at you now. As if his eyes haven’t been on you since arriving over an hour ago.
“Marks gone dude!” Jaemin shoves you into Jeno. Hands lifting up landing against his chest. Palms covering Jeno’s pecs. One of your brows lifting suggestively.
He growls, gripping you wrists- removing your touch. Skin burning hot where you’d just been. “Don’t fucking touch me. Those hands belong to Mark now.”
Stumbling back, landing against Jaemin’s chest. He steadies you with hands on your waist. Tingles bursting inside, maybe from Jeno.. definitely from Jeno..
“Jeno.” Your eyes roll back far enough to remind Jeno of the last time he saw you like that. Hand twitching at his side with temptation to bend you over and slap your ass violently for all to see.
“Why are you even here? When are you going to stop?” Jeno’s gaze hides something pained. Like a wounded puppy in fear, putting up a front to protect itself. Doing something to your heart, choosing to shove whatever that is aside and continue ignoring it.
“When am I going to stop?! When are you going to stop! You know I had no choice. Mark’s not my boyfriend…” hesitating for a moment. Prideful conscience getting the best of you. “..and neither are you.”
Jeno’s lip curls up, baring teeth. Chest protruding forward in a symbol of dominance. Silently telling you whose really in control here. Head tilted down, eyes louder than words, tearing you apart.
“You know how many girls here would beg for me to even look at them? What haven’t I fucking given you? What the fuck else do you want from me?” Jeno scolds. Hand instinctively gripping your chin. Thumb swiping across soft skin momentarily. Triggering memories Jeno would rather forget. Jaemin’s brows furrow standing at your sides, wondering if it’s time to make his exit.
“I want you. I want all of you.” Your eyes fall shut, embarrassed to admit it out loud. The last three weeks without Jeno around driving you to a breaking point. Finding yourself crying into his pillow one too many nights. Why did you have to accept a reality you knew could be avoidable if you both just tried.
“That’s too bad.” Jeno shoves your face away roughly. Jaw clenching and twitching where his cheeks sink in. “I don’t want a lying whore.”
He turns away, back muscles taunting you. Fervor taking over, Jaemin’s mouth dropping. You barreling forward, throwing your body weight into Jeno. Catapulting him flying into the pool.
“Fuck you Jeno!”
——————————————————————————-
“They’re both really immature.” Renjun tsks. Watching Jeno towel off. An audience full of scantily clad women surrounding him. Not really giving them the attention they deserve, but clearly enjoying the praise. Knowing it’s driving you crazy, probably stirring ideas in your head of what he’s been up to the last few weeks. If only any of them were true.
“Why’s he always gotta be such a dick? What does he want? He won’t fuck any of the girls we bring back. Now he’s pissed we got his sister here..” Haechan scoffs. Hands busy behind the little bar set up by the pool mixing a drink. Renjun sighs, leaning in on his elbow.
“Step sister, when you just say sister it’s kind of weird. After what we all had to watch..” he rubs his sweaty nape with a smirk. Other hand snapping at Haechan for a beer.
“Don’t act like you didn’t like it. You came faster than all of us.” Haechan lets out an appeased laugh. Pouring golden bubbly liquid into a red cup. Under his breath, he whispers quietly “wonder why.”
“Fuck you dude, talk about Jeno being a dick.” Renjun snatches the cup out of Haechan’s hands, sniffing the contents cautiously. All too familiar with his stupid pranks by now.
“Renjun.. hear me out.. if he’s not gonna fuck her..” Haechan’s brows lift suggestively. Eyes darting back and forth between where you stand. Tension evident in your body language as irritation overcomes you the longer Jeno ignores your presence. “Been awhile since me and you shared right?..”
“Haechan, he almost killed us once already. You really want to risk that chance again for some pussy?” Renjun leans back, contemplation passing his eyes none the less.
“You know it wasn’t just some pussy. Love me a good freaky bitch.” Haechan’s grin grows. Sipping alcohol through a straw, having started early today. Slight buzz reaching his head already. Maybe with a clearer state of mind he wouldn’t dare test Jeno again- yea right.
“We’ve been 6 feet deep in ass since we got here. You just love to piss him off dude.” Renjun stands up from the bar stool, hands smoothing down his t-shirt. “I’m not completely opposed to the idea though..”
“You act like Jeno doesn’t deserve it. Look at him seething away over there like some big baby. He needs to learn his lesson already, just cause he’s hot and has chiseled abs doesn’t mean he should always get what he wants.” Haechan says shooting a lazy glare Jeno’s way.
“You have to stop watching those enemies to lovers movies. You’re one more hour of Jeno walking around shirtless away from proclaiming your undying love.” Renjun responds with a disgusted tone. Tossing back the rest of his drink. Combination of summer heat and alcohol causing sweat to pool in the crevices of his body.
“Whatever..” Haechan laughs to himself, finishing the rest of his drink off. With a spin, he grabs two cans of beer making his way out from behind the bar. “You in or what?”
Renjun sports a hesitant smile, eyes bouncing between you and Jeno. He should know better by now than to let Haechan talk him into these messes. Against his moral judgment, he nods, smile spreading wider into his cheeks. “If we get caught, I’m blaming it all on you.”
“We’re not gonna get caught. Jeno’s too busy pretending she doesn’t exists.” With a roll of his shoulders, and an elbow nudged into Renjun’s side they make their way over to you. “Act cool. Don’t make it obvious.”
Renjun scoffs, stepping ahead of Haechan. If anyone knew how to be inconspicuous out of the four of them, it’s him.
“Why are you standing here all alone? Are we not friends now?” He steps into your space under the roofs ledge where you’re trying to catch shade. Pulling a can of beer from Haechan’s clutches, earning a scoff. “We got that sugar free kind, girly spritzer stuff? You thirsty?”
“First off- ew, we are not friends. Second off- why would you idiots invite me to this party?” You spit out, snatching the can from his hands. Haechan’s expression turning amused over Renjun’s shoulder muttering- “Should have let me handle this one.”
“God she’s just like Jeno..” Renjun tucks his chin into his shoulder whispering to Haechan. Face turning back to you quickly with a kind smile. “Let’s be friend then? You’re here right? We all know each other well.”
“You know fucking doesn’t equate to friendship right?” Your tone laced in annoyance. Hand swatting at mosquitos circling around you. Haechan’s eyes light up, the bulb in his mind sparking to life.
“Bug spray!” He shouts out, a little too enthusiastically. “We have bug spray inside.. come on let’s get you some before you turn into a mosquito feast.”
Renjun looks at him with confusion. Haechan motioning for you both to step inside the house. Majority of the party goers outside by the pool- a pool party after all. He throws Renjun a look indicating ‘I got this’, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Jeno doesn’t spot the three of you. You make your way inside, Haechan placing a hand on your lower back.
“Still can’t believe Jeno ruined your summer plans over something so petty..” Haechan mumbles, throwing another knowing look at Renjun behind your back. You take in the gorgeous beach house, anger building up inside of you the more you think about it. Unable to stop yourself from picturing all the surfaces Jeno could have been fucking you into mindlessness on.
“He’s so immature.” You sigh, slumping against Haechan’s hand. Renjun nods in return, wrapping himself around your arm.
“You have no idea. He’s just lucky we all agreed to help him pay this off.” Renjun bites back his smile. Leading you down the hall toward their bedrooms.
“I know you guys are like besties, but Jeno’s just..” your hands shoot up, groaning in frustration. “Why would he even bother to rent this place out for us. It’s like like I wanted to go out with that Mark guy!”
“Oh I know..” Haechan pauses, turning you to face him. “He told us all about it.” He tsks, head shaking.
“He can be such an asshole right?” Renjun strokes your arm up and down, free hand brushing hair off your shoulder. You slump into his pets, soft warm hands sweeping up and down your bare skin.
“You need to get back at him, give him a taste of his own medicine.” Haechan’s tone deepens. Hands finding their way to your hips. “Let us help you.”
“Help me?” Your eyes widen, Haechan’s lust filled gaze pulling you in. This can’t happen again, or can it..
“Jeno abandoned you for weeks to come fuck around out here with us. He doesn’t deserve anything from you.” Renjun leans into your ear with a hushed tone. Fingers finding the tie on your bikini bottom, toying with the strings.
“I think it’s only the right thing to do..” Haechan slides a hand down your fluttering bare stomach. Fingers reaching for strings on the other side of you. His mouth falls open comically, pulling the tied knot free.
“Wait..” you look around the hallway with slight panic. Thighs squeezing together, clenching the fabric of your bottoms between you. “Here? Isn’t this..”
“What? You’re shy all of a sudden?” Renjun bites your earlobe, tugging free the other knot. Bikini bottoms betraying you as they fall to your feet. Eyes drifting down, toes kicking the cloth aside. Stomach heating up, fiery heat coiling around inside of you.
“I’m not.. I just.. what if he..” Swallowing, head tilting as Renjun’s tongue slides down your neck. Soft lips leaving hot pecks on your burning skin.
“What if he what?” Haechan clasps your chin, eyes blazing with intent. “Jeno deserves this..” fingers drag down your neck, between your chest. Lips pulling back, sucking air through teeth. “You deserve this.”
A whimper passes between your lips, legs trembling holding you up. Haechan’s head tilted down, hand slowly stroking between your abdomen. Eyes look up, half lidded and menacing. Fingers sliding in-between your squeezed thighs, tapping at your clit.
“Don’t you?” The questions dangerous, almost threatening. Biting down on your lip as Renjun’s teeth dig into your neck, humming in agreement. His fingers running along the dip in your back. Giving in you nod rapidly, cocky smirk on Haechan’s lips spreading.
“That’s right. Nasty little whores like you love getting fucked where anyone can watch.” Haechan’s grin grows. Fingers gliding between your folds. “As expected, dripping wet.”
“Let me” Renjun steps in front of you, lips pouted with a sheen of spit. Lust hazy filled eyes racking across your body. He swiftly falls to his knees, arms wrapping around your thighs.
“I got you” Haechan steps behind you, arms wrapping around your waist. “He loves to eat.”
Renjun’s face dips down, nose shoving between your shaking thighs. One of Haechan’s hands squeezes your hip, landing a smack loud enough to echo against the walls.
“Stop acting shy, that pussy’s hotter than my ps4” lips drag across your nape. Teeth skimming down skin, tongue lapping at your shoulder. Hips jolting forward Renjun’s nose pressing against the hood of your clit.
Sandwiched between their bodies has your temperature rising quickly. Haechan pressing flat against your backside. Licking the top of your back, tongue languidly dragging up and down your spine. Renjun pulls your thigh forward onto his shoulder, you tense up reluctant to relax your body weight against him.
Haechan slaps your hip again, firm hand landing on your ass after. “Stop acting innocent, where’s that whore that begged for cock in front of all of us huh?” He hisses against your ear, hips thrusting forward against your lower half with emphasis.
Pathetic whimpers fall from your lips, body slumping as you release control giving in. Renjun’s eyes shine bright below you, cheeks bunched up with eagerness. His jaw stretching open, mouth enveloping you mound. Hot tongue forcing between your wet folds. Loud sounds of wetness burning at the tips of your ears.
“That’s more like it, dirty slut” Haechan lets out a laugh, teeth digging into the crevice of your neck. “You gonna let me fuck this ass?” Fingers reach between you, tips circling your clenching up hole. Gasping in surprise, instinctively rolling forward against Renjun’s mouth.
“Fuck..” your eyes squeeze shut, biting down a moan. Tongue finding it’s way to your entrance, moans shivering up your core.
“Ride his tongue baby, he loves that shit” Haechan slaps your ass again. Finger prodding at your backside. Mouth marking up your neck with endless licks, sucking and biting over every expanse of flesh. Haechan thrusts forward, Renjun’s tongue gliding inside with a firm wiggle. He doesn’t stop thrusting, finger running up and down between your cheeks. Face growing hotter as you speed up, neck dropping back against Haechan’s shoulder.
“Feel good? Come on, tell him how it feels.” He hisses meanly into the back of your ear, teeth nibbling.
“Yes! Oh fuck, yes yes” eyes dropping open, the ceiling spinning above succumbing to the pleasure. Renjun knows what he’s doing, hands squeezing around your thighs. Tongue relentlessly working away inside of you. The combination from Haechan’s torment and Renjun’s stimulation too much. Haechans fingers not giving your ass a break, hole fluttering against him with each pass.
“Dirty slut..” he mutters, reaching around you. Hand sliding down your stomach. Your eyes follow the motions, head dropping forward. Eyes locked on Renjun’s squinted crazed look. Practically fucking down on his mouth. His head moving up and down with each thrust of his tongue inside.
“I’m..o-oh..oh fuck…stop stop!” You squeal out. Still too aware of your surroundings trying to control your vocals. Haechan smirks behind you, hand swiping down. Thumb pressing at your clit.
“Gonna cum?” He presses down on your clit. Roughly circling it, working you from both ends. Your head shakes, waist curling forward in his hold.
“No! I’m… I’m gonna..oh f-fuckk” your face contorting tightly. You grind down on Renjun’s tongue, legs shaking around him. Body jumping forward, squirting out past his tongue. He groans beneath you, eyes falling shut in ecstasy. Continuing to work away, licking all over your drenched folds. Heavy sounds of slurping mixing in with your panted drawn out moans.
Foot steps sound around as they reach closer, stepping into the hallway. Bottoms of feet pattering down on the wooden floor approaching. Moans and a tongue swirling in your ear much louder. Distracting you from hearing any warning. A displeased huff of shock paired with a deep voice breaking your thoughts— “Are you two fucking serious right now?”
Haechan let’s out a cocky laugh, shoving wet fingers inside your mouth. Tongue eagerly licking at the taste of yourself. “Yea we’re fucking serious man. Dude you’re supposed to be distracting Jeno. Go away.”
“Fuck you Haechan.” Jaemin walks further in. Renjun standing up straight, using the back of his hand to clean his mouth. Chin dripping with your squirt, shirt looking like he got caught in a water gun battle.
“Already told you, dinner first.. but since you’re here..” Haechan shoots Jaemin a wink. Tongue lapping over your heated face with his shit eating smirk.
“When you said work on her, I didn’t know you meant fuck her!” Jaemin snaps. Your thighs clenching shut around Haechan’s returning hand. Jaemin too close now, overwhelming emotions running rampant surrounded by all three of them. Eyes unable to not linger over his broad defined chest. Trimmed waist taunting you, abs leading down to his swim trunks. Hiding something you’ll never be able to forget.
“Oh.. I think she likes you Jaemin..” he taunts, thumbing your sensitive clit. Wetly whispering  against your ear - “Little whore loves getting stretched out by a fat cock huh? Bet you love aching in pain the next day. Limping around, getting turned on every time you try to sit, hissing in pain.”
Fuck, he read you like a book. Pitiful moans slipping from your lips. Renjun licking at your other ear, fingers maneuvering around Haechan’s hand. Playing along your slit, coating in slick pouring from your entrance. Successions of whined moans drawing out as they both stimulate you. Haechan’s movements hard, abusing your clit. Renjun soft, treating your hole with the utmost tenderness. Asking for permission to be let in with his ministrations. Allowing your body to open up for his fingers before gliding in. Whatever you’d been upset about long drifted out of your mind by now.
“Is that what you like?” Renjun encourages you to speak up, nose nudging your chin. Fingers making way inside you. Scissoring apart open easily, wet walls expanding around him. Needy whimpers betraying your cool and careless facade. Succumbing completely to their touches and words. Jeno’s right— you really are a whore.
Jaemin adjusts his growing size, swim trunk fabric turning uncomfortable the longer he stands there watching. Why was he standing there just watching after all? It’s not like Jeno hadn’t been a dick the last few weeks. Even ruining his chance at getting ass last night. Blaming that for why he was chubbing up so fast. Watching you transform into some horny slut, thirsting to be impaled on cock. Curiously wondering if it even mattered to you whose cock it was. Didn’t seem to make a difference with the way you raced through each of them like nothing.
Haechan stares him down, watching Jaemin consider his options. What if Jeno finds out? But what if he doesn’t find out? How did they end up in this situation again? Only all at once- wait three dicks..three holes.. Haechan’s eyes roll, as if he can hear Jaemin’s thoughts. Calculations exciting him when the idea sparks that one of those holes is in your ass. Always the silent worrying type, trying to resolve a logical conclusion. Logic- don’t fuck her, go tell Jeno and let him deal with this. High chance of blood shed and ambulances in that scenario though. Less logical- oh my god I’m gonna fuck her in the ass.
His fingers lift, snapping noisily by your head. Waving in the direction down the hall. “My room, none of this hallway easy to get caught shit. Thought you two had more brain power than this. Well.. Renjun at least.”
“Hey, who do you think master minded all of this?” Haechan scoffs. Hand slapping down on your exposed ass. “You heard him, bedroom.”
You turn, hazily stepping forward. A large hand landing on your shoulder, sending waves of shock down your back. Jaemin brushes up against you, domineeringly whispering in your ear- “did I tell you to walk?”
With a rough shove down, your knees hit the floor. Looking over your shoulder, sat on all fours. The three of them standing above you shooting tingles up your core. Hooded eyes gazing at you with excitement, intrigue, disdain. All things that made you quiver, knee’s buckling against the floor. Jaemin crouches down, dark subtle smirk taking over his features.
“Crawl, like a good little bitch.”
Tears rush to the backs of your eyes, heated humiliation burning you up. Languidly dragging your palms and knees ahead. Satisfied sighs and grunts behind you, watching your ass spread open. Jaemin’s hands rubbing together imagining how soon he’ll be deep in you. Ready to give you something to whine and cry about. The room at the end of the hall seeming further and further away. Knees aching against hard wood. Sucking it up, because you are a good little bitch. With a tear dripping off your chin passing the threshold, you finally make it to his room.
A simple boy room, lingering scent of fresh laundry flooding your sense as you crawl inside. One too many speakers set up on the nightstand. A mint hoodie strewn over a chair in the corner. Curtains mostly shut, letting in only a few streaks of light across the bed. A bed for sure big enough for all four of you, and some.
You tumble forward, squealing out when Jaemin’s hand comes down hurdling across your ass. Skin aflame, prickling heat burning across your backside. Haechan was bad enough already, cunt convulsing between your legs remembering how much worse Jaemin was going to be.
“Ah, you’re no better than Jeno. Always too mean.” Renjun sinks down by your feet. Hand caressing your heated cheeks with a tender massage, pulling you spread apart. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl get this wet before. Fuck.”
“Never did like sharing with Jeno. Always had to turn everything into a competition.” Jaemin drawls out, tugging open his drawstrings. Haechan settles on the floor, tracing over your spine.
“Don’t pull that monster out yet. Let us have fun first. You’re gonna tire her out.” Haechan tells Jaemin, tapping his hands away from removing his bottoms.
Jaemin scoffs, shutting the door to his room. Conveniently enough, no locks on the doors in this house. He strides over to the bed, sitting on the ledge. “Only if you get that ass stretched and ready for me.”
Renjun makes a face at Haechan, hands holding you open. Eyes on your rim, something he too often thinks about while getting off. Shaking his head, he lets you go, dragging light scratches over the backs of your thighs. He leans into Haechan, whispering— “I can’t do it. Probably tastes like Jeno.”
You scoff below them, catching his words. Haechan shushing you with a squeeze to your ass.
“Don’t worry pretty. I love eating ass.” Haechan grips your inner thigh. Sweltering hand burning your skin. Arousal has him tenting hard, damp board shorts stretched over his cock. He manhandles you onto your back, fingers tracing up your stomach. Slowly blinking down at you, running his hand back and forth. Small touches spinning wheels in your gut, abdomen twitching under every touch. Haechan’s dick jumping between his legs. Loves feeling you loosen under his attention.
Renjun sits to your other side, hands squeezing the sensitive fat on your inner thighs. Sharing a look with Haechan, both of them grabbing onto your knees- holding you open.
“Fuck” Renjun pants against your calve held on his shoulder. Gaze burning down between you. Haechan’s lips covered in drool watching your hole. Both of them wide eyed and attractive above you. Faces nearly angelic if not for whatever depraved thing they were preparing to do to you. The contrast between them has you instinctively clenching. Wetness seeping down your ass with a lewd sound. Both of them groaning, Renjun’s teeth sinking into your leg muffling his. Your arms lift, blocking your vision as more tears make way to your eyes. Jaemin’s loud sound of disapproval following, moving off the bed to his knees. Sat behind your head, pulling away your limbs apart. Wet eyes uncovered, pleading looking at him upside down. His smile isn’t nice, eyes sharing true intention. Shifting your head off the floor to his lap.
“Don’t cover your eyes. Good puppies pay attention.” He spits out. Vindictive malice in that tone, coated in fake sugary sweet. All of it was too much. Each of them with a hold on your body. Jaemin’s fingers loosening the knot behind your neck. Breasts falling out freely as your bathing suit top is tossed aside.
“Fuck, you’re right. She’s so fucking wet.” Haechan salivates, fingers dragging down your thigh. Fingertips brushing the skin of your mound. Jaemin’s hands covering your breasts, squeezing them together. Low throaty groan rumbling behind you.
“Look how pretty you are spread open like that puppy. Such an obedient bitch.” He mumbles, hard length digging into the back of your head. Faded memories of thick girth making your hips spasm. Haechan taking this as an invite, fingers sliding down your slit inside your entrance. Another spasm lifting your ass off the ground. Renjun’s teeth digging deeper into your calve.
“Don’t move.” He mutters against your leg. “or we’ll fuck your little hole until you beg for us to stop.”
“Already did that” Jaemins lifts a hand, smacking your cheek. “Remember puppy? Fucked you into submission like a good cock sleeve.”
Before you can even react, Haechan dips forward. Deeply inhaling your tantalizing scent.  He’s so shameless, eyes rolling up in ecstasy. Your breath hitching, chest rising and falling with need. As if you hadn’t just cum all over Renjun’s tongue. Haechan’s messy- wrinkled clothes, unkempt hair, rolled out of bed chić. No different in his sex life, fingers sloppily thrusting inside you. Walls hungrily sucking him in, urge to reach your pinnacle returning. It’s a wonder Jeno never complains about how insatiable you are. Begging to get fucked at any opportunity.
His eyes turn up to you, half lidded. Lips pouting out, uttering words before wrapping around your clit.— “Such a pretty pussy. Everything about you pretty.”
Your neck releases, eyes squeezing shut in a scream. Fingers speeding up, wetness spattering out around his hand. Tongue rolling around your little erected bud, breathlessly panting. Haechan appearing deranged sucking on your clit. Visible tongue wiggling rapidly, darting back and forth like a pro. Busting out tricks, waving it around. Lips kissing your swelling clit with a grin. An absolute menace. 
Renjuns nails sink into your thigh, hips jerking up against you. Rubbing his tented shorts against your leg held up. The stretch becoming uncomfortable, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure to realize how sore you already feel. Only able to reason feeling like a fuck toy. Willing to be used and degraded any way they wish for. All you can do is mewl, weak attempts to ride Haechan’s fingers failing. Renjun shoving you down with a hand on your stomach. Snapping at you to stop moving. 
“Can’t fucking take this..” Jaemin blurts behind you to himself. Thick heavy cock landing near your cheek. Eyes widening, glancing up. Jaemin winking, hand cupping your jaw. Other hand slapping his massive length against your cheek. “Make that mouth useful for something other than crying.”
Fingers sink into your cheek, turning you to the side. Jaemin’s fat cockhead hitting your tongue, precum oozing out. Renjun’s mouth finding your nipples, pressing your thigh up against your chest. He sucks aggressively, buds swelling up under the roof of his mouth. Haechan shoving your thigh further open, adjusting himself right between your widened thighs. Slurping sounds from his mouth, from your mouth attempting to get an inch past Jaemin’s cock head. Lips cracking in a familiar way, your mind yelling at you to do better. You did it before, you could do it again.
“Come all over my face.” Haechan commands, slapping the back of your thigh. Tongue squeezing inside of you past his fingers. Renjun locking eyes with you, dragging two fingers between his lips. Shining with spit as sun light hits them, pressing on your hardened nipple. Muffled screams trying to escape your lips straining around Jaemin’s size. Haechan’s tongue incessantly prodding at your filled hole. Fingers spreading further open until you give, letting him slip inside. 
“Shit man” Jaemin grunts, hands dragging through his hair. Slowly over his face to his chest. Pulling out his cock with loud wet slaps on your cheek. His member so heavy, your face tightening up with every drop. Slapping his cock down harder from your reaction, teeth gritting concealing a smile. “What a good little slut you are.”
Your head spins, Jaemin turning blurry. A few tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. Only the first of many to come. Your hips bucking upward, hole tightening up around Haechan’s fingers and tongue. Hands wrapping around Jaemin’s biceps above you. Muscles meaty and flexed under your grip. All of it driving your sense crazy. Face turning to the side, mouth parting open over Jaemin’s cock releasing a broken shouted sob.
“Haechan! OH FUCK! HAECHAN OH FUCK!” Your cries get louder as you cum again, screams warning out. Haechan not budging, tongue catching all of your wetness. Gazing up annoyed you didn’t squirt for him. Dragging his forehead, nose, lips and chin up and down your slit. Licking over every inch of your mound. Ass landing back down on the floor tired. Cumming twice in a row using up too much of your strength. Chest heaving letting out trembled whimpers against Jaemin’s cock. Tongue and lips dragging over the size lazily. Words between Jaemin and Renjun incoherent, still reeling from your orgasm. Hissing when Haechan places a kiss on your swollen clit.
“Let me fuck her first. I’m about to busts a middle school in my fucking shorts here dude.” Renjun pleads. Haechan sitting up in attention, hair sticking up all kinds of directions. Shining slick enhancing his soft features, making him even more beautiful if possible.
“When aren’t you.” Haechan grumbles, taking in your wrecked appearance. Dick twitching in his shorts satisfied he did that to you. Sucking your juices off his finger with a wink when your eyes meet. “but fine, if you must.”
“Get back on your knees” Renjuns fingers snap. Walking on his own knees over between your legs. You make no sign of movement, stomach slowly lifting with every drawn out breath. Haechan’s smirk intensifies, nodding to Jaemin.
“Let’s help our cute puppy. She doesn’t know how to properly stand on all fours yet.” Haechan pulls you up with Jaemin’s assistance. Manhandling you onto your front, ass on display for them once again. Renjun sighs, chewing his plump bottom lip.
“Fuck it” hands grip your hips, lifting your lower half up. Well taken care of hands, free of any callous, squeeze your ass. You whine out, Jaemin and Haechan sitting on their knees before you. Haechan joining Jaemin with his hard dick out, hand painfully gripped around the base. Jaemin stroking his length up and down lethargically. Faces showing you how eager they both are to get inside of you. You fall to your elbows in surprise, yelping out landing hard. Renjun’s tongue jabbing at your rim, pulling back with a noisy spit. 
Renjun grunts around your clenching asshole, tongue excitedly prodding forward. Groaning vibrations up your spine after every sad mewl you cry out. Haechan lifts your tear stained face, making you watch him and Jaemin. Both of them not really jerking off, just buying their time. 
“Come on man, you said fuck her. Not eat her ass like it’s your last meal on death row.” Jaemin rolls his eyes. Wasn’t he the one that told them to get your ass ready? Quickly forgetting, wanting to hear you scream when he fucks your dirty hole.
“Shutup. Been thinking about this for so long..” Renjun sighs, kissing your tight wrinkled hole. “Pretty ass like this deserves to be worshipped.”
Letting out louder whines, struggling to keep your eyes open. Haechan thumbs tears away from your cheek, continuously spilling out. Trying his best to not think about how much you’re enjoying getting your ass ate out in front of them. 
“Such a slut” he whispers to himself. Muscles in his arm straining, fisting the base of his cock. Your mouths hung open pliant, gasping in desperation. Renjun lapping at your hole letting out drawled out moans. Hands kneading your ass till you relax, tongue circling your rim. Moving in when you finally unclench. Lips latching around your rim, tongue wiggling it’s way in. Fucking spit right into your hole. Thumbs parting you open further, dribbling spit between your cheeks.
“Tastes so good. Tastes too good.” Renjun murmurs, hand landing on your ass with a slap. Tugging his cock, swiping up and down your slit gathering wetness over the tip. Cock teasing at your entrance, Haechan lifting your chin up further.
“Beg for it.” He instructs, hand sliding down to your neck. Back arching forward tense, Renjun inching closer.
“Fuck me. Please just fuck me already.” Renjun grinds in all the way following your words. Cock filling you up so nicely. Jaemin biting his lip watching your eyes roll back. Renjun wastes no time, pulling your hips back. Thrusting smoothly in with low grunts.
“Keep her mouth open.” Jaemin tells Haechan, moving in. Cock prodding at your lips. “Come on, widen that mouth. You can do it, I know you can.”
Your lips messily roll over the tip of his length, body jerking up with every slide of Renjun’s cock. Haechan’s fingers dig into your cheeks, assisting your mouth in opening up for Jaemin’s size. Moaning around his length as your lips manage to part enough to swallow half of him. Both penetrating you from opposite ends in different ways. Renjun focused, working hard to make sure you both get off. Jaemin careless, happiness expanding watching you struggle to handle his thick cock. Lips blistering dryly sucking down more inches.
Renjun’s hands dig into your waist, rubbing your lower back. Thumbs digging in where you’d normally ache. Moans trapped behind your tongue lapping at the girth choking you. Haechan letting go of your chin, hand stroking loose hair out of your face. Other still controlling his cock from bursting. The visuals turning him on a little too much. Muttering something under his breath that sounds like ‘hate you and your monster dick’ to distract himself. The tenderness Haechan and Renjun give you so opposite of what you’re accustomed to. Stirring up heat in your lower belly. Renjun’s lips dragging over your spine, tongue hanging out. Leaving trails of spit marked on your skin. Grinding deeply between your walls.
Haechan takes note of your reddening eyes, pulling you free from the ‘choking device’ between Jaemin’s legs. Quivering with copious amounts of drool spilling from your lips. Breathing in and out harshly, sending Haechan thankful eyes. Not even a second before Renjun takes advantage, quickening thrusts. Pushing your upper back down, shoulders pressing to the floor. Fucking into you manically, pretty moans spewing from his lips. Some of the prettiest moans you’ve been lucky enough to listen to, right into your ear. Whiny breaths, skin smacking together, your cries echoing into the floor.
“I’m cumming!” you scream so loud. Jaemin and Haechan sharing a concerned look, hoping no one could hear you outside with music blasting. Renjun’s deeper scream follows yours. Rumbling behind his throat, less anguished than yours. Licking across the sweat pooling on his top lip. Falling back on his knees, wet length slipping out. Cum already spilling from the tip, most of it landing on the backs of your thighs and ass. His eyes widening, shocked with how much cum won’t stop shooting out. Stomach sucking in with a tired howl.
“Fuck me man.” He bends forward, burning forehead resting on the cool floor. “Holy shit.”
“What’d I tell you..” Haechan’s tired of waiting. Only let Renjun fuck you first since he helped lure you in here- sort of. It was his plan after all. Easily tossing you on the bed, hand slapping your stinging marked up ass. Subtly missing where Renjun’s cum drips.
“My turn.” He closes in on you. Jaemin’s arm blocking his movement.
“Our turn.” With a shove to Haechan’s chest, Jaemin crawls onto the bed. Hands finding your ruined ass yet again, parting you open. Wet rim beaming at him so invitingly. Haechan stares too, huffing out a sigh. Maybe another day.
“Come here pretty. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” Haechan cups under your arms, biceps protruding when lifting you. Moving you to the head board with some of your help. Crawling over to him on your knees. Cunt squelching between your bodies. It’s not as if you went for him first out of Jeno’s group of friends for no reason. Mostly because he was easy, and easy on the eyes. Body responding for you as Haechan digs fingers into your hips. Dragging your parting lips up and down his raging hard cock. Fearful he’ll be busting a nut before even getting inside of you.
Jaemin straddles behind your back, chin resting on your shoulder. Hand squeezing your jaw to make you look at him. Fingers skimming up and down your wet crack.  “Guess you do back door now puppy.”
You stiffen up, staring into Jaemin’s evil eyes. Hole kissing his fingertips with every pass. Grin on his face growing larger. Haechan’s hips lifting up, humping against your soaked core. Stomach and pelvic bone gleaming with your wetness.
“Gonna squirt for me?” His brow raises in question. Folds parting around his length, cock head dragging across your entrance. Pussy pulsing with need. Mind losing track of how many times you’ve cum by now, ready for more. Jaemin let’s go of your jaw, sucking on three fingers. Getting them nice and wet. Spitting into his other hand, palming his cock with tired breaths. Tired of not being deep in your ass already.
“Pussy already feels so fucking good.” Haechan’s brows wiggles, length circling your entrance. Hole parting open around his head, lifting you off trying to tease. Dying to fuck you and have you shaking in crazed heat above him. With one last prod, his hips twist up. Cock squeezing between your walls. Simultaneously releasing gasps of relief, your hips swiveling around. Gripping around his delicious length. Core contracting around the ridges of cock grinding deep inside you.
Jaemin’s fingers make their way inside your ass with no warning. Back arching forward, pussy grinding down harder on Haechan. Hurried thrusting wet fingers forcing you to ride him. Hips pulling away shoving you down on Haechan’s size faster. His strangled moans growing louder with every push and pull. Jaemin spitting at his dick one more time.
“Slutty puppies don’t need this much prep” his voice draws fear down your spine. Wet tip of his cock poking at your asshole. He bites your earlobe, sharp tone hissing— “Don’t forget I need to cum too.”
Jaemin holds your ass open, cock spearing in pushing past the tight ring. Teeth gritting, screaming curses from the instant tightness. Abs clenching, arms wrapping around your neck in a choking hold. Hips slamming up again, cock burying all the way in your ass. “FUCK! Fuck! So fucking tight.”
He inhales deeply, struggling breaths panting into your hair. Moans strained, cock twitching between you. Your body losing life, only held up by Jaemin’s arms. Haechan crying out, hips lifting off the bed. Building a rhythm, fucking up into you harder with each thrust.
You think you let out a scream, throat burning in the aftermath to remind you. Tongue hanging out gasping for air loudly. Jaemin pulling out to the tip before pounding into you. The stretch from both ends too much. Cocks gliding against each other between your lower half. Both moving at a different pace. Haechan moving faster from Jaemin’s rigorous fucking.
“Fuck! I’m not gonna last!” Haechan screams, such a noisy boy. Hand slipping from your hip, thumb circling your clit rapidly. He growls through gritted teeth, thrusting turning jerky. “Come on, come on!”
Weakly shouting, tears and spit drenching your face. Brutal pace they’ve both fallen into filling the room with the sounds of too much skin stickily smacking. Haechan presses your clit the right way. Jaemin stilling in your ass groaning as you clench up. Hips pulling away from both of their lengths. Haechan popping out lewdly as squirt flies out of your core. Landing across his stomach, chest, shooting high enough for his tongue to catch. Head lifting with his mouth open, slurping up everything you give him. Jaemin returning to fucking your ass not even a second after the last spurt of liquid spills. Folds forming around Haechan’s sensitive cock again, earning another shout from him. Head shaking as cum releases over his stomach. Knocking the wind out of him successfully. Eyes rolling back until all that’s left are whites staring back at you. Heavy gasping breath’s from all your chests so loud.
Too loud to even hear the door opening. Jaemin’s hips pounding against you too loud to even hear the all too familiar pissed off growl.
“Gonna cum in your ass.” Jaemin’s not quiet. Loud enough for anyone in the room to hear.
“Don’t dare fucking cum in her ass.” Jeno’s voice barrels throughout the room. As if every other sound turns muted suddenly. Jaemin’s hips halting to a stop, grunting into your hair. Jeno staring you both down. Boiling up enough you swear smokes clouding out of his ears.
“That’s not up to you.” Jaemin hisses, thrusting in as deep as he can go. “Want me to cum in your ass puppy?”
Without hesitation, your head shakes. Watering eyes stuck on Jeno. “No!”
Jaemin curses, questioning why he even asked. Pounding you down with force against Haechan’s lifeless body. Renjun trying to play dead on the floor like he didn’t just fuck you before them.
“Stupid puppy. Bad puppy.” Jaemin rumbles against your back. Ass brutally stretching around his length with every rapid thrust. Using all of his thigh muscle to fuck into you, headboard rattling against the wall. Your eyes on Jeno, moving only a centimeter inside the room. Lips pulled back revealing teeth. Hand reaching out for him over the sheets- like once before. Groveling like a broken useless toy, begging to be fixed.
“Pull out.” Jeno grits. Jaemin’s neck snapping, caught up in how good you feel suctioned around him.
“Fuck off.” His thrusts don’t falter, not even a bit. Cock mercilessly pounding away at your ass. Full balls slapping against you loudly.
“Not even fucking her properly. None of you know how to fuck her. Only me..” Jeno stands by the bed. Crouching down eye level to you. Your cheek pressed up on Haechan’s panting chest. “Isn’t that right baby?”
Your head nods rapidly, Jaemin’s hand pressing you further against Haechan. Eyes rolling annoyed.
“God shutup” his face squeezes, mouth pursing tightly. Taking out his frustration on your ass. Sick of how Jeno has to interrupt when he’s fucking you. Couldn’t have been when Renjun was slamming into your pussy, could it.
Jeno’s eyes trail down your arm, to where your fingers lay out stretched. Reaching for him, mentally telling you off. Hates how Haechan was right, jealousy doing things to get his dick hard like nothing else. Loves knowing you’ll degrade yourself this much just so he’ll fuck your brain empty. Might as well act like your boyfriend. Nothing about what you two had going on was normal anyway.
Jaemin pulls out, hand jerking violently at his length. Smacking your bruising cheeks in anger, silently wishing he could slap Jeno in the face too. Chest heaving in a deep growl, trembling out you shooting out hot cum on your lower back. Smearing his cock between your ass, letting white strings spill on your asshole.
“Fuck. Fuck.” He falls over to the side, landing all to close to Haechan’s cum soaked chest. Turning with a disgusted sneer, as if all of you weren’t covered in each other’s bodily fluids.
Jeno’s hand finds your scalp, hair wrapped in his clutches. Yanking you off the exhausted man under you. Yelping out, dragging off to the corner of the bed. Jeno looking at you like you’re the filthiest girl he’s ever seen, maybe you are.
“Did my baby get fucked good?” Your head shakes in his hold. Even if it’s a lie, you know better than to answer him any other way. He roughly throws you back on the sheets, shorts dropping to his feet in seconds. Mounting you with speed, legs tossed over his shoulders bending you in half.
“That’s cause no one fucks you like me.” That’s all it takes before Jeno sinks inside of your abused hole with one swift motion. He just knows how to use you. Face contorting over you. You completely unaware he hasn’t fucked anyone since the last time he had you weeks ago. Savoring your tight cunt wrapping around him so deliciously. Like a welcome home after a long trip.
“Jeno.. please.. please f-fuck me..” you’re too sore after Renjun and Haechan having their way with you. Never willing to deny Jeno any of your holes. You belong to him, anything he wants is his. Jeno’s dark eyelashes flutter over his cheeks, head nodding.
“A minute..” hips swivel forward, cock circling your insides. Jeno always fucks deep, stomach protruding out with his size. He takes deep breaths, already looking like he just fucked you for hours. Sack tightening up between his legs screaming to let him cum.
“Feels so good Jeno. Love your cock so much. Love it more than anything.” You let out a helpless moan, arms wrapping around Jeno’s neck. Pulling him in closer. Knees around your head, grateful for flexibility. Jeno’s sweat covered forehead rubbing against yours.
“God baby..” Jeno growls, hips lifting back. Cock gliding out of you to the tip so slowly. Plunging back in fiercely, hips snapping into action. Fucking you into the mattress with all of his weight. He growls against your cheek, nose scrunching up— “no.. you, fuck, you feel so fucking good.”
Jeno slams forward repeatedly. The room feels like it’s rocking all around you. Breathless cries reaching the back of your throat. Only managing airy breaths, inhaling whenever you can. Vocals torn up from screaming for what felt like forever. Jeno shifts up, cock hitting that spot deep inside you. The way he always did.
“Jeno!” Your raspy cry forces his eyes open. Lips panting on yours, tongue licking where your cupids bow dips.
“Cum for me baby. My baby.” Fuck that’s all it takes. Jeno’s cock reaching deep inside of you so good at this different angle. Searing heat painting your insides. Body cramping up, cunt gripping around Jeno tightly. A little pain mixing in with over stimulated pleasure, but that’s how you liked it anyway. Jeno thrusts through your climax, groaning in your parted lips. Hips stuttering forward, seed spilling inside of you. Heavy breaths entering your dry mouth as Jeno twitches, emptying his balls.
Sitting up, letting your sore legs land at his sides. Jeno glides out with a hiss, cock lewdly popping wet out of your irritated convulsing hole. His cum spilling from your walls down to your ass, mixing with yours. Cock head dragging up and down rubbing the mess around.
“Mine. All of you. Only mine. Always mine.”
——————————————————————————
When you come to, it’s only because of weight sinking the mattress around your frame.
“Jeno?” Your bleary eyes squint. Back of your hand rubbing them open, trying to focus.
“Shh..” strong arms scoop you up from the bed. Three masculine figures left behind, foot steps leading you out of the room. Too drowsy to keep your eyes open. Broad shoulders loom above you, soft cushion meeting your back as he sets you down. What feels like hours later, truly only less than a minute. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, lapping dryly. A large hand stroking your hair back. What feels like a warm damp towel gently cleaning your body. Dry sticky cum diminishing with each pass of warmth. Hissing when he reaches between your thighs, hearing a faint apology after.
Warmth engulfs your body, wrapped in a soft heavenly comforter. The larger sturdy figure joining you. Fingers massaging your scalp, worried the hair pulling that took place may have been too much. Also maybe everything else that took place.
“You okay baby?” Jeno’s voice meets your ears. Eyes fluttering open, grimacing shut resisting the urge to pass out again.
“Jeno?” A cough follows your curiosity. Throat scratchy and parched from all your screams of pleasure. Lips peck around your cheeks and forehead, silently “mhm”ing against your skin. You finally manage to keep your eyes open. Admiring Jeno’s defined features, tempted to lean up and bite his nose.
“Am I.. still.. your baby?” Your words crack. Dry tongue and mouth making it impossible to speak up. Jeno lifts a water bottle to your lips. Smile slowly spreading over his face. Eyes bunching up lovingly, like a dream.
With a kiss on the tip of your nose, Jeno wraps around you. Fingers tickling up and down your spine. “Always my baby. Only my baby.”
———————————————————————-
Mark calls out “hello?” Returning from a long trip to three different stores in search of Jeno’s favorite alcoholic beverage. Alleged favorite, not actually his favorite at all. Setting down a box of sparkling water alcohol in the kitchen. He pauses for a moment, before heading outside to the backyard. “I gotta pee.”
With a quick stride around he ends up in the main hallway. Doors lined up on both sides leading to different rooms. The first one he opens someone’s bedroom- neat and organized. The next one a lot messier- bed unmade and clothes tossed all over the floor.
“Where the hell’s the bathr—…oh.. what the fuck!” Marks face displays shock. Three of his friends naked bodies wrapped around each other on the bed before him.
Renjun sits up, eyes half shut looking around the room. Still unsure when he ended up on the bed himself. Eyes searching for Mark’s voice. Landing where he stands near the door. Digging the heel of his palm into his eyes with a yawn.
Mark steps forward, staring at Haechan and Jaemin’s sleeping figures. Light snores sounding out, the two guys exhausted. Haechan’s nose digging into the back of Jaemin’s neck, drool spilling down his chin landing on his back. Sure enough fighting when they come to- “Why were you cuddling on me like that!”— “Don’t act like that wasn’t the best nap of your life.”
“Deng, had no idea you guys were into this!” Mark smiles at Renjun, still groaning half awake. “Remind’s me of college, invite me next time!”
———————————————————————-
🐶: “Goodmorning my anal princess<3”
🐶: “angel**”
😇: “Jeno what the fuck. I’m trying to sleep.”
🐶: “Nooo, come to the kitchen baby. Dad got called in to work for a meeting. We’re home alone🤤”
😇: “I’m sleepy.”
🐶: “I’m making you breakfast🥺”
😇: “Be down in a minute.”
You giggle washing dishes after eating Jeno’s pancakes. With some help from an instant mix powder and water, he didn’t do half bad. A little oddly shaped and crispy but it was the thought that counts. Also helped how he cut small pieces and fed you. Pecking your lips with syrupy kisses after each bite. It was disgusting, in the most non-disgusting way possible. 
Felt too good to be true having Jeno all over you since returning home. Even risking injury scaling the roof to crawl into your window whenever your parents stayed up too late. Jeno figuring out different ways to spend extra time with you. Even if it meant running through sprinklers at 6am with his dick flapping around when your mom tried busting into your room. Becoming more cunning to her ways, specific days she’d choose to drag you to the AM aerobics class with her. 
The chair you’d started placing under the handle sparing a few extra minutes for Jeno to make his escape, bare assed and all. He went as far as hanging out with Mark, alone. Explaining the situation to him. Maybe throwing in a lie here or there. Something about how you’d been dating before your parents met. Thankfully he was pretty understanding, explaining he was more interested in getting laid than a serious commitment. Further peeving your ass for having to pretend to care about his rants on Bruno Mars being the greatest musical artists of these times. Either way, Jeno was proving himself worthy of being your boyfriend, in secret of course. Still risking his chances at holding your hand in public.
“Jeno! How am I going to get anything done with you all over me!” With another exasperated laugh, you shove your ass back. Jeno’s crotch pressing between your cheeks. Stealing nips and kisses along your jaw. 
“You’re not. Stop doing the dishes, I’ll wash them later. You have more important tasks to worry about.” He grinds forward. Hardened bulge letting you know exactly what he means. “We’re home alone, no excuse to not bend you over this counter and fuck you till you’re screaming loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear.” 
Jeno squeezes your ass over your pajama bottoms. Husky voice whispering into your ear— “and I’m still hungry.”
That familiar shuddering vibration rolls down your spine. Jeno loosening the draw string holding up your bottoms, letting them fall to your feet. Finger tips delicately skimming between your cheeks. “Perfect baby, always ready for me.” 
Jeno dips down to his knees, just like a good boy whose earned his treats. Looking over your shoulder down to where Jeno’s thighs flex, boxers sliding up exposing more smooth skin. It was just so unfair how attractive he looked. Whether he was hate fucking you into delirium, or on his knees staring up at you with shining sweet puppy eyes. He was made to drive you crazy either way. Eliciting heat between your thighs like no one else could. 
Lips part on your ass, tracing soft pecks and wet kisses over the skin. Finally healed up after his friends destroyed your ass. Jeno having to wait two weeks before you’d even let him steal a squeeze. Always complaining about that Jaemin and how you’d never go near his huge cock again. Jeno interjecting that you’d never go near anyone else’s dick other than his again. Especially not his friends.
Jeno pulls you open, gently kissing your rim. That also on a time out for the time being. Loving sweet anal princess text messages or not. His tongue can’t resist a taste, sweeping up and down, nose spending extra time sucking in deep breaths. 
“You’re so gross.” You whine, bending forward onto the kitchen counter. Ass perking out nicely for easier access. 
“Only gross for you.” Jeno places another wet loud peck on your rim. Shoving your thighs further apart. Holding yourself up on your tippy toes and his nose drags down your slit. Arousal evident on his face, wetness gleaming off his chin under the fluorescent kitchen lights. Lips crashing on your core, slurping up any wetness thats dripped out. Tongue swiping up and down between your folds, only barely nudging your clit. Eating you out from behind with no concern for his throbbing length. Moaning his tongues way inside your hole. Wet walls wrapping around him so good.
Jeno’s hot hands squeeze your thighs. Fingers tickling the backs of your knees. Face burying deeper, nose ending up back against your ass. Tongue working inside you with stiff wiggles. Pulling away with a loud suck on your mound. Dipping lower, nosing your fluttering entrance. Lips sucking your sensitive clit, rolling it around the tip of his tongue. Toes cramping up as your legs shake. More wetness making way out of you, sliding down Jeno’s cheek. He loves it, wants to be drenched in you all day.
Jeno stands back up, teeth nipping your bare shoulder. Pajama tank straps sliding half way down your arm. His face glowing coated in you. Jeno more than happy to walk around like that. Leaning in, wet nose digging into your cheek with pouted lips. Becoming needier for your kisses with each day. Most nights didn’t even end up in fucking. Jeno falling asleep with his ear pressed against your chest, opting to not risk making too much noise. Your parents comments about how close you’d two become growing more repetitive.
“Love fucking you..” Jeno mumbles on your lips. Sharing messy kisses with each other. Cock sliding between your thighs, folds parting open on his size. Gliding back and forth letting your wet slick coat him. 
“Love when you fuck me.” Jeno’s smile appears with your comment. Eyes disappearing cutely, bringing out that cute beauty mark you had to kiss every morning.
His forehead rolls against yours. Body leaned over on you. Hips lifting, cock making way inside you with an easy slide. Biting his bottom lip focused on your face. Your lips parting open, still surprised whenever Jeno fucks you. He never fails, always feels good. Get’s you going. Soft, messy, hard, hot, he deserved claim.
Jeno grinds into you slowly, letting you really feel the shape of his cock. Ridges gliding against your walls, fat veins pulsating in you. Hands squeezing your waist, fingers prodding your ribcage. Trying to hold back, trying to savor it. Taking his time since he can. You know better though, hand stroking his hair. Stopping at his nape.
“Please baby. Need it. Need to get fucked hard.” 
Jeno lets out a rasped growl, pulling out to the tip. Slamming forward without resistance. Bodies blending into each other as his pace speeds up. His strong hold keeping you in place. Cock drilling into you carelessly. All you had to do was beg, just once. His tongue lapping all over you. Face covered in saliva, fasts thrusts even making some in your eye. Moaning when Jeno finds the angle, thrusting eagerly deep into you. Focusing on hitting the same spot over and over the tighter you clench up. Moans mixing in with each others panted breaths. Jeno’s deep chest growls growing louder the more you squeeze around his length.
“Jeno! Jeno!!” You shout, panicking eyes watching the garage door. Sound of the metal loudly closing, light foot steps following. “Someones home! Pull out! Oh my God pull out!” 
“I’m so fuc-fucking close…” Jeno groans, hips endlessly pistoning you into the counter. Screaming out in a throaty raspy tone, uttering garbled words— “I’m cumm— oh fuck baby, I love-!..”
The garage door rickshas open, bouncing off the wall. Briefcase landing on the floor with a loud bang. Jeno deeply growling above the noise, hips stuttering in climax. Hot cum bursting out through your insides. Cock deliciously jerking with every spurt of release. Neck rolling back, releasing broken whimpers slapping your ass.
His dad stands at the door, jaw hung to the floor- “WHAT THE FUCK!”
a/n: THE END🌶(this crazy shit is not proofread- later lol)
Can You Handle It?—>
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taglist: (idk who wanted to be tagged anymore srry)
@seuomo​ @unknown5tar​ @sunoosi​  @ahsshilee-me​ @jaeminne​ @rapha7 @tulipatethic
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messers-moony · a year ago
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Runaways | R.B
Paring: Regulus Black X Twin!Fem!Reader
Summary: Regulus refuses to lose yet another sibling after Sirius leaves.
Being a Hufflepuff Prefect with a mischievous older Gryffindor brother is a lot of work. Sirius is frequently getting into trouble, and Remus is no help. But honestly? Y/n isn’t either. If anything, she laughs at her brother and her friend's antics. Y/n is the only Black family member still in good shape with all her family. 
Sirius was overjoyed when Y/n was into Hufflepuff. His little sister following in his footsteps of no longer being a Slytherin. However, Y/n’s twin brother - Regulus - was sorted into Slytherin. She didn’t let that define their relationship. Y/n was close with her twin and the Marauders. Remus often bumped her shoulder in the halls making her smile. The werewolf often had that effect on her. So did James, and so did Peter. 
But no one made a giant smile appear on her face than Sirius and Regulus. 
“Oi! Little sis!” His voice, it was calm and bright, something she hadn’t heard in a long time. 
Y/n turned, “Hey Siri.”
Sirius’ arm went around her shoulders, “How’s your day been?”
“Good, yours?”
“Oh,” Sirius sighed, dreaming, making her chuckle, “It’s been perfect, dear sister.”
“What did you do now?” Y/n fake scolded, “Everything.” Sirius replied. 
A familiar raven-haired boy was making their way towards them, hoping and praying that they wouldn’t notice. His green tie and green robes. The prefect badge on the left side of his chest. The wavy black hair and the beautiful grey eyes. The 5’11 Slytherin walking towards his twin sister and older brother. The people he adored the most in the world but barely talked to within the castle walls. His plan ultimately failed. 
Regulus turned to walk by his two siblings only for Y/n to wrap an around his shoulder, “Reggie!”
“Y/n, Sirius.” Regulus greeted with the corners of his lips barely turning up, “How’s your day been?” Sirius asked, turning to look at his younger brother. 
“Good until two idiots came along.” He joked with a smile adorning his features. 
Y/n put her hand on her heart dramatically, “You wound me!”
Both brothers chuckled, and a Professor came to greet them in the middle of the hallway, seeing their beautiful smiling faces, “All three Black’s in one spot. How brilliant!” Slughorn commented as Sirius faked tipping his hat. 
The three Black siblings. The Black trio. One Gryffindor, one Slytherin, and one Hufflepuff. Oh, how Walburga adored them despite the way she treated them. It was never in her heart to treat them the way she does. Orion had such a soft spot for his twins. But alas, both parents knew that if they didn’t raise them correctly - or without abuse - they would only get hurt worse. Walburga knew that if she treated them the way she truly wanted to, they’d be split. 
But that never compared to the aching in her heart when she had to cast a spell on her children. The kids she was sworn to protect. Walburga never wanted this life, never wanted to marry Orion, hell, she never even wanted kids, but Merlin, her kids were great. Slughorn and McGonagall would send her letters of how wonderfully they’ve been doing in their studies, how Sirius made another cauldron explode, how Regulus caught the snitch and won the Quidditch Cup, how Y/n made prefect and was top of her class. 
It was beautiful, and for once, Walburga was happy. She hid all the letters from Orion. If Orion knew he’d made Walburga send a howler, and she didn’t want that. Godric how she hated the awful red colors the howlers came in. The awful shade of brilliant rose. It brought a grimace to her face just thinking about it. But like everything, the truth comes out, and Sirius eventually got a howler. 
Sirius let go of Y/n to begin Transfiguration while the two twins made their way to Herbology. Not before Sirius kissing the tops of their heads like he did when they were kids, “I love you guys!”
“Black, get in here!” McGonagall yelled, and both twins laughed, “We love you too!” They replied in unison. 
Regulus and Y/n laughed, their arms around each other's shoulders, “I never want him to leave.” Regulus admitted. 
“Me either.”
The day was uneventful. More learning, more foolishness, and more laughter. Professor Sprout couldn’t help but smile at the Black twins in her classroom. Regulus was always ice cold when not around his siblings. They made him shine even if he couldn’t find a reason to. It didn’t matter where they were. The Black trio always brought smiles with them. Whether it was Y/n and Sirius, the twins, or all three, their smiles, their laughs, their happiness was so contagious. Three children from an abusive home, coming together to make each other smile. How is it possible?
Y/n would be the answer. The glue to the Black family. The bond to keep her brothers from drifting apart. But that all changed in the summer of 1976.
It was dark and another day of yelling. Sirius couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to leave. He wanted to go. It was bound to happen. He kept telling himself. But did that excuse leaving his siblings behind? Would he risk their safety for his own pleasure? Sirius didn’t have time to think about it. He packed his trunk and opened the window. One leg out and just about to get the other over until his door opened. 
His little sister, “Sirius?”
“Hey, sis…” Sirius hated how his voice shook and almost broke.
“What- Where are you going?”
He couldn’t help it; she needed to know the truth, “Away. Far away from here.”
Y/n crossed her arms slowly, “Without saying goodbye?”
“Goodbye?” Sirius replied with a nervous smile. 
She shook her head with a smile, walking toward his window. Sirius expected a smack, a lecture. But she didn’t do that. Y/n cupped both his cheeks and kissed his forehead like he did when she was hurt. Tears filled his grey eyes without permission as he stared at his younger sister's glossed eyes. Gently she ran her hand through his hair, moving it back. 
“I suppose you were never good at goodbyes.”
“Not really, no.” Sirius chuckled. 
Y/n smiled, “I know you aren’t happy here. You were never happy here.” Sirius interrupted before she could continue, “You could give Remus a run for his money.”
“Listen, Sirius, please.” She pleaded, and Sirius looked at her eyes; he’d miss them, “All I ask, is that you take care of yourself. Regulus and I, we’ll manage. But you should say goodbye to him too….”
“Go get him.”
It took minutes, but Regulus was eventually standing in front of his older brother, one leg out of the window and the other inside his bedroom. Y/n stood behind them, arms crossed with tears streaming down her cheeks silently. Regulus looked like he wanted to cry, but he didn’t. Sirius didn’t care anymore. Silver trails ran down his cheeks, especially when Regulus hugged his older brother with all his strength. 
“I'm going to miss you.”
Sirius sniffled, “I’ll miss you a hundred times more.”
“Impossible.” Y/n interjected, smiling. 
Regulus and Sirius pulled apart, Regulus now standing beside his twin, “I need you to know,” Sirius began, looking at Regulus, “James isn’t your replacement. He is nothing compared to you. You’re my brother, always.”
“And you,” He turned to Y/n after Regulus nodded, “You’re my baby sister, through and through. Just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean you can give me detention.” 
They chuckled, and possibly for the last time, “Always.”
“Forever.”
“Together.”
Sirius gave a watery smile and finished the jump out his window. Wordlessly Y/n shut it behind him. Regulus stood in front of the glass pane until Sirius was out of sight and gave a heavy sigh. Y/n was standing right beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.
“I knew it was going to happen. I just wish it wasn’t so soon.” Regulus whispered, “I know.” Y/n agreed. 
Regulus took her hand, “Forever.”
“Together.” Y/n replied, squeezing his hand. 
So many they lost their always, but they still had each other. The next night at dinner was dreadful. Possibly the worst one yet, “Where is he!”
“I- I don’t know.” Y/n answered, cowering away, her hand rubbing her forearm.
Walburga looked at Regulus, and he shook his head, “Where is Sirius?”
“Gone.” Walburga replied to her husband, who gave a mere shrug at the answer, “Our heir is gone, Orion! What are we going to do now.”
“The reasonable thing, Y/n is next in line.”
Walburga scoffed, “Absolutely not.”
Regulus reached for his sister's hand after noticing the tears collecting in her eyes, “She is a disgrace! Just like Sirius!”
Orion put down the daily prophet, looking at his wife across the table, “What would you like me to do about it?”
“Regulus!” The boy stiffened, “You are our next heir.”
“No!” Y/n exclaimed, her rage taking over, “That isn’t how it works! I’m the next in line, disgrace or not. I'm older than Regulus.”
Walburga pulled out her wand, but Y/n didn’t flinch, “With that courage, you should be in Gryffindor.” The older woman seethed.
“You feel no remorse, do you?” Y/n asked, but she did; Godric, Walburga hated herself, “Putting your wand to my neck like I’m some training dummy.”
“How do you think we feel! Our older brother is gone! The one who took care of us because our parents can’t.”
Y/n had tears flowing down her cheeks, “How do you think we feel?”
The girl stood up from the table without being dismissed after letting go of Regulus’ hand, “I saw the tapestry.”
“You burned him from it! What kind of monster are you?! He’s your son regardless of his house. I’ll be your heir, but I will never be your puppet.”
Y/n ran up to her bedroom. Walburga and Orion stared at their son, who sat as stiff as a board. More minutes passed, and Regulus left the table too but not before speaking to his parents, “I’ll- I’ll be your heir. I’ll be your son.”
“Brilliant. Thank you, Regulus.” Walburga smiled.
Regulus lost his brother. He wasn’t losing his sister. But over time, it felt like he was. There was no more laughter in the halls. Only one Black sibling was laughing and smiling - Sirius. There was no more hugging in the halls, no more playing around. Regulus and Y/n were ice. They were cold and in pain. That was the first thing Sirius noticed. His siblings hadn’t stopped by his carriage like usual. It dampened his mood. 
“Hey, I’m sure they’re just busy.” James had reassured, but Sirius wasn’t so sure.
It was the first ride to Hogwarts that Sirius was utterly silent. He played with the ribbon in his hand. It was a green ribbon that he carried with him everywhere. The boys never knew what it was or where it came from. They had just discovered that Sirius would fidget with it when he was upset. Remus noticed it first - of course - but James did too, and shortly Peter followed. It was her ribbon, Y/n’s ribbon. A ribbon she wore in her hair when she was seven. 
After a bad punishment, Sirius had been given Y/n took care of him. Washed his cuts and plastered them. It was then she learned how much Sirius loved when people did his hair. So she braided it for him and tied it off with her green ribbon. He remembered the way it felt on his fingertips. So perfectly combed and webbed together. It was the reason his hair was long enough to braid. Every Quidditch match, he’d weave it. James asked why once, and Sirius ignored him, but Y/n knew. It was okay to keep secrets sometimes. 
Fifth-year for the twins went by smoothly. Sirius’ sixth year was hell. He missed his siblings so much somedays it was hard to get up in the morning. Regardless it was hard to get Sirius out of bed in the morning, but this year was particularly rough. It was like he was in a constant state of Remus after the full moon - tired, fatigued and sad. 
He missed Regulus’ smile and Y/n’s laughter. Godric, he missed everything! Sirius cried - sobbed about it at night. His silencing charms weren’t good. It left James and Remus in a tricky spot. It was apparent he didn’t want to talk about it because if he did, he would’ve by now. Remus stopped seeing the twins during prefect rounds and stopped seeing Y/n altogether. It was like she was avoiding them. 
The twins did their prefect rounds together, studied together, and only talked to each other. It broke Sirius’ heart. He ruined everything just for his own pleasure. But hadn’t Y/n meant what she said? That she wanted him to be happy? Sirius wasn’t happy. He was far from it. 
Regulus had nightmares every night about his parents. About his brother leaving, about everything. So he didn’t sleep most nights, and instead, he threw himself into his studies. Occasionally he’d realized that he had done two essays and then understood that he no longer had to do his brother's homework. Regulus had copies of reports everywhere because it was a habit. A habit he had to lose. 
Y/n stopped baking extra cookies. Every Saturday, she’d go to the kitchens to bake a new delicacy the muggle way. Y/n couldn’t help but accidentally bake extra for her Gryffindor brother, only to realize that she wouldn’t give them to him. Instead, she gave them to the house elves to serve after dinner in the Great Hall. They’d appear on the Gryffindor table, and Sirius knew they were a product of her. 
During the summer holiday of 1977, Regulus began to notice that Y/n gone often. Walburga would send her away, or Orion would make her run an errand. Regardless Y/n wasn’t around as much. Was she going to run like Sirius? Walburga and Orion sent her to Auror training. Y/n was young, too young for this training. It was Auror training, but they weren’t training her to work for the Ministry. They were preparing for her to become a death eater. 
Weeks passed, and Regulus felt saddened by her absence. So one day at dinner, he spoke up, “Why haven’t you been present at home?”
Y/n chuckled, “Are you serious? You haven’t told him?”
“What- What do you mean?” Regulus questions suspiciously.
Walburga coughed, “She’s been put into training.”
“Training?”
“Auror training.”
“But not to be an Auror, to be a death eater.” 
Y/n scoffed, “Bullshit, tell him the real reason.” 
She looked at both her parents, “They don’t want me anymore. They send me away because it’s easier than disowning me, like Sirius.”
“N- No.” Regulus denied, “Mum, tell me that she’s lying.”
Silence, “Answer me, please.” Regulus pleaded as a water film glossed his grey eyes.
“She’s not lying.” Orion stated, and Regulus let his tears fall down his cheeks, “No! I won’t let you take her from me!”
Regulus stood up, and his chair flipped behind him, “If you disown her, you disown me!”
“Reggie…”
“No! Please no!” Regulus was clawing at his hair, sobbing, “Don’t take her too….” He whimpered. 
Y/n began to stand up until Walburga sent a spell her way, throwing her back. It just made Regulus cry more. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. They were sixteen! This wasn’t fair. So Regulus stood up and held back his tears. Walburga held her wand to his throat, making Y/n nervous. But Regulus was cold, ice cold. Hastily he grabbed his mother's wand and snapped it. Y/n didn’t have time to gape. Regulus ran to her, and they ran. 
Through the front door to anywhere else in the dark of the night. Orion was too busy with his wife to realize his children were gone. Y/n was sure they were miles away before they stopped. No magic could be done. They weren’t seventeen yet. They’d have to survive without magic. But then she heard it. A howl. It was a risk, a big one, but they had to take it. 
She took her brother's hand and began running towards it, “Y/n, where are we going?”
“To whatever is howling.”
“Are you mental?”
“Maybe.” Y/n shrugged. 
Suddenly he saw it. That look Sirius always had. She looked free, happy, and mischievous. Suddenly she wasn’t Y/n Black. She was just Y/n. His twin sister. The girl that would beg her brothers to adventure with her, to trust her blindly. That’s what he was doing now - trusting her blindly. They must’ve been miles away. Regulus didn’t even know how they got that far, but in the forest, the howling got louder. 
But at the edge of the forest was a black dog, guarding the entrance to the woods, making sure that no one entered. The stag was taking care of the werewolf. They took turns. One full moon, the dog, was to stand guard, next the stag. Y/n cried upon seeing the animal. She dropped to her knees, and Regulus knelt beside her. The dog looked familiar and gave them both great kisses. They fell asleep together. Y/n, Regulus and the dog. 
The following morning, James went back out to the forest after realizing Padfoot was missing. At the entrance of the forest, he saw them. The Black trio. So he left them. Sirius knew the way back; it wasn’t worth ruining their moment. Regulus stirred awake first and woke the dog. The dog left a multitude of kisses on the twins. Y/n woke up shortly after. 
Regulus was appalled to see the dog turn into his older brother but happy nonetheless, “Sirius!”
“Reggie.” Sirius replied, holding him close. 
They parted, and Sirius kissed his forehead, “How?”
“The howling.”
“How did you leave?”
“I snapped mum’s wand.”
Sirius looked flabbergasted, “Really?”
“She- She was going to separate us. I didn’t- I couldn’t lose another sibling.” Regulus admitted, and Sirius took him into his arms again, “Never again. I promise.”
Y/n chuckled, “Looks like we’re all runaways.”
Sirius grabbed her into the hug, “But we’re doing it together.”
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findingjoynweirdstuff · a year ago
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A Guide on How to Locate Old VODs!
Hello, everyone! 
As you all know, Twitch has a cap on VOD availability where, after two months, a VOD on a channel will be deleted. 
Given that Dream SMP has lasted for longer than two months, with the bulk of the plot now missing, this means that finding old footage can be somewhat of a challenge if you aren’t yet familiar with how to do so!
I get a lot of asks asking me where certain old VODs are, and while I don’t mind these asks at all, I also figured it would be helpful to make a guide post on my methods for locating them so that people can attempt to locate things for themselves too!
There are plenty of ways to go about it, but this is just what I do.
Without further ado, here’s a step-by-step process. 
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Before you go searching for anything, there’s some information that you’ll need to decide on.
What are you looking for?
This one’s a bit obvious, but you need to figure out what exactly you’ll be seeking out. For this guide, I’ll be using the first Dreamon Hunters VOD as an example, as that’s one that people have asked for a lot in the past.
When did it happen?
As a general question, you’ll want to know the basic context of around what time this event took place. We’ll get into specifics later, but it helps to have context. Think: what else was happening at the time?
Well, for Dreamon Hunters, we know that Fundy was wearing his Dreamon Hunters outfit at the Manberg Festival, October 16. Therefore, that event took place not too long before then.
From whose POV?
You’ll need to know which streamers to search under. The first Dreamon Hunters stream was streamed by Fundy and Tubbo. 
Tubbo’s official VODs channel does not include the first Dreamon Hunters VOD, and the oldest VOD on Archive is Festival preparation on October 13. Unfortunately, this means that Tubbo’s POV is lost, so we will be seeking out Fundy’s.
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Now that we’ve got that out of the way, onto the next steps.
STEP ONE: Figure out the exact date.
There are a few ways to achieve this. If you’re lucky, you’ll know the date already -- November 16th, January 6th, other big ones like that. Sometimes you can look at recap posts if they exist for that day. 
But the most reliable one I’ve found, especially for Season One, is actually to use Twitter’s advanced search.
(Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking. But it genuinely works pretty well)
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Type in keywords that you think would end up in livetweets of the stream. If something specific was trending that day because of the event, that helps as well. For this example, we’ll use “DreamXD,” as that was trending.
Scroll down to the bottom and select a date range. This is where knowing the general time that the event happened helps. We’ll do October 1 - October 16.
There! We’ve found the livetweets! How nostalgic. 
Figure out the earliest date. 
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For our example, it appears to be October 7. Note that VOD dates might be a day later due to different timezones.
STEP TWO [Optional]: Figure out the stream title.
You don’t necessarily need this step, but it can often be helpful when scrolling through a large selection of VODs, and since sometimes the VOD dates can be a day off, having the title will give you the most accuracy.
Go to Twitchtracker.com/ [insert streamer name] /streams and click on the date you just found.
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From here, we can see that Fundy’s stream on October 7 was titled “THE NEW MANBERG.”
STEP THREE: Find the VOD on a VODs channel or on Archive.
I will be linking a bunch of unofficial VODs channels that I’d recommend at the end. Here we will be using Fundy Stream Archive.
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And there we go! We have successfully located the first Dreamon Hunters VOD!
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Now, that was an easy example. Things can get a bit more difficult than that.
For our next example: what if you wanted to find the original Captain Puffy “duckling Dream” VOD? 
When did it happen?
If you remember, this stream happened when Captain Puffy hadn’t yet chosen her alliances between Dream SMP and L’manburg. Therefore, it would have been November or early December, soon after she joined the server.
Using the Twitter search method, we’ll search for “duckling Dream” in the date range November 16 - December 20.
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The earliest date appears to be November 29.
Using Twitchtracker, we know that Captain Puffy’s stream on November 29 was titled “Nightime vibing on the Dream SMP!”
Next, since Captain Puffy’s VODs from this early on haven’t been archived to a channel on YouTube, we’ll visit Archive.org instead. Search up “Captain Puffy” 
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Be sure to sort by date. This will display the date below, but I’d still recommend you have the stream title on hand as well.
Aaaand
There it is! 
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There you have it! A step-by-step guide on how to locate old VODs yourselves!
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What can’t you locate?
Unfortunately, there is content that can’t be found this way.
Tubbo’s August and September VODs, Eret and Jack Manifold’s August VODs, a couple Tommy streams, HBomb’s Doomsday stream, etc., are all missing.
Notably, every so often Sapnap’s Storytime Stream VOD will be rediscovered and passed around as a Google Drive link or uploaded to YouTube before inevitably being taken down again. Keep your eyes peeled and you might see it pop up again.
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Hope this helped! If you can’t locate something yourself, again, feel free to ask me and I can try my best to find it.
Otherwise, happy searching!
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Below is a list of channels and resources I’d recommend.
There is more to be found out there that you can look for yourself, but these are the ones I use most regularly!
Tommy’s official VODs channel
Quackity’s official VODs channel
Tubbo’s official VODs channel (you won’t find much here, but it has some VODs from the summer that aren’t available elsewhere)
Technoblade’s stream playlist
Philza’s Twitch archives
Archive.org (heavily recommended for Tubbo, Captain Puffy, Karl, Antfrost and Jack Manifold)
Dream Team Streams SMP in order playlist (goes up to the L’manburg War)
Karl Jacobs VODs (unlisted playlist)
Purpled VODs
Hannahxxrose VODs
Awesamdude’s official VODs channel
Awesamdude unofficial VODs channel (includes earlier VODs)
Badboyhalo VODs
Skeppy VODs
Fundy Stream Archive
Wilbur VODs
Ranboo VODs
MCYT VODs channel (features a variety of streamers -- you’re going to want to know the specific stream title here)
Dream Team SMP channel (good for locating Tubbo VODs. You will want to know the stream title for this one as well)
Dream Team SMP2 channel
Captain Puffy VODs
Sapnap VODs (older ones)
Eret VODs
HBomb94 VODs (older ones)
Georgenotfound VODs (older ones)
Punz VODs (older ones)
Dream VODs
Dream SMP Archive (a few VODs from five months ago)
Dream’s official L’manburg War video trailer (now deleted off of Twitter)
Bad and Skeppy build a mansion
Jack Manifold’s first day on the server (doesn’t include the entire thing unfortunately, but at least the first hour or so)
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animeomegas · 9 months ago
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Kinktober - Day 18
[Iruka (Naruto) + Almost getting caught]
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Summary: Iruka, despite being a very capable chunin, rarely left the village. Obviously, he was a teacher, but even during the summer there was an implicit understanding that should Iruka be gone for more than two days, the entire missions desk would devolve into chaos. So imagine your surprise when Iruka is given a mission that will take him out of the village for at least a month. And you only have ten minutes to say goodbye before he has to leave... not nearly long enough to go home, so you’ll just have to say goodbye in one of the bathrooms near the missions office... Dom!Alpha!GN!Reader
Warnings: Iruka is quite hesitant to get down and dirty in his workplace so there is some convincing that has to take place. Not dubcon or anything, but still.
“We can’t have sex in the bathrooms of the missions office!” Iruka hissed at you as you dragged him to what you knew were the quietest bathrooms in the building.
“But I want to say goodbye properly,” you argued. “You’re going on a mission for a whole month and I’m going to miss you even more if we can’t properly say goodbye.”
“But we’ll get caught!”
“We won’t… As long as you’re quieter than normal,” you added the last part under your breath but judging by the way Iruka’s face went bright red, he’d definitely heard you. You wondered briefly if he was red from embarrassment, anger or arousal?
“Look, the longer we linger here, the higher the chances are we’ll get caught,” you reasoned, swinging open the bathroom door to find it blissfully empty.
A few moments later and you and Iruka were pressed up against each other in one of the small cubicles, chest to chest and nose to nose.
“I agreed to meet with Izumo and Kotestu at the missions desk before going to the gates together for the mission!” Iruka protested despite having fully allowed himself to be dragged into the cubicle with you. “I need to meet them in seven minutes!”
“But… I’m going to miss you…” you whined, giving Iruka your best puppy dog eyes.
Iruka blinked at you for a moment, and you could see the moment he started to falter.
“Just… be quick…” he muttered, sighing, the red from earlier creeping back into his face.
You grinned for a moment before spinning your mate around so that he was pressed up against the cubicle door. And, after a few moments of fiddling with his buttons, you yanked down his trousers and underwear in one go, revealing his beautifully smooth, tan skin to your hungry eyes.
He really was incredibly beautiful. For a second you couldn’t help but remember the time his hairband had snapped while working and Iruka had forgotten to pack a spare, forcing him to keep his hair loose for the day. You remembered having to beat people off of him to get him home at the end of the day.
(If one more jounin claimed to need help with their chakra control just to get into Iruka’s pants, you were going to beat them off with a sword this time.)
A stay kunai suddenly fell from Iruka’s pocket, knocked from your aggressive pulling, and clattered against the tile of the bathroom floor, breaking you from your thoughts and providing a sharp and sudden reminder about how easily sound is carried through a room filled with porcelain.
Best you hurried a little.
Opening up the glorious cheeks that frequently blessed your dreams, you were happy to see that he was still somewhat stretched after you activities last night. You fished a small tube of lube that you kept on you at all times for… emergency purposes… and conscious about time, quickly coated your fingers with it and shoved a couple inside. You immediately tried to find his prostate and coax out some slick to aid your minimal amount of lube.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Iruka gasped. “Ah! Hnng-“
“Shh,” you hushed, moving your fingers faster and adding in another one for good measure. “It’s important that I say goodbye to you properly. I would be slacking on my duties as your alpha if I didn’t leave you with a memento to remember me by while you’re all alone on your mission.”
“Memento?” Iruka asked, his hips jerking as you finally found his prostate.
“Hmm, that’s right,” you agreed. “I want you fighting enemy nin who have no idea that as the battle continues on, more and more of my cum is dripping out of your gaping hole.”
Iruka gives a sharp intake of breath at your shameless words.
“I-“
“I want you to stumble when you’re tree running because you’re sore from the imprint of my cock inside you, your teammates questioning why you stumbled as you panic and try to come up with a believable lie.”
“Fuck,” Iruka whimpered against the palm of his hand. You saw the moment his knees started to weaken and so you hooked an arm around his waist and pulled him closer to you to keep him stable.
At that moment, audible footsteps filtered in through the gap underneath the bathroom door. Iruka clenched around your fingers, but you didn’t let that impede your rhythm, fucking him through the nerves, smirking as light squelching sounds now began appearing.
“Are you nervous that person’s going to walk in? Or are you excited?” you teased him with a whisper, removing your fingers, now covered in slick, and using the lubricant to stroke Iruka’s semi hard cock. “What if someone found us like this, hmm? One of your colleagues perhaps? Someone who often sits next to you at the missions desk, who’ll forever wonder if maybe, whenever you take a toilet break, you’re actually doing some naughty.”
“No, I don’t normally do this, it’s your fault, I wouldn’t-“ Iruka gasped.
“What if it was one of your students’ parents, then?” you carry on like he hadn’t said anything. “They have to come and see you at parents evening, but no matter how hard they try, whenever they look you in the eye, all they can think about is you bent over in the bathroom, enthusiastically taking your alpha’s cock, too much of a slut to wait until you get home.
“Or what if it was Hatake that walked in, huh? And every time you have to chase him up about late mission reports he takes you even less seriously than normal because no matter how much you shout or how intimidating you are, he’s seen you in a position he’s only read about in those awful, lewd books of his.”
“Shut up!” he whisper-shouted. “What if someone hears you? I work with children, I could lose my job-“
You chuckled and, taking advantage of your incredibly close position, slammed your cock into your mate in one fell swoop. Iruka interrupted himself with a keen which he desperately tried to smother with a hand.
“We’ve got to hurry,” you teased him, sucking a hickey onto his shoulder, remembering just in time to put it in a place that would be covered by his uniform. “You’re already late.”
With that, you started to pound into you mate as fast as you could causing the cubicle door to rattle and Iruka leant on it to keep himself upright. You were going to miss the feeling of soft skin slapping against yours while he was gone. As much as you played it up that you were going to miss him, you were actually feeling a little sad. You’d got used to having him around all the time despite being a shinobi, and the idea of a month sleeping in a cold and empty bed wasn’t particularly appealing.
Overwhelmed by emotion in that moment you leant down and nuzzled into your mate’s neck, pecking kisses on any of the bare skin you could reach. Iruka was letting out a long continuous, but muted, moan now, his cock flinging pre cum all over the stall as it bounced and shook in time with your thrusts.
Suddenly, two pairs of footsteps approached the main toilet door. As fast as you could, you pulled Iruka up towards your chest to stop the door from rattling, but remained buried inside of him, even as the toilet door swung open.
Iruka went as rigid as a statue immediately, and although you’d stopped thrusting, you sneaked a hand around and started gently rubbing the tip of his dripping cock that was still weeping onto the white tiles below.
“Iruka? You in here?” It was Izumo, presumably joined by Kotetsu. Iruka tightened like a vice around you and there was a moment of silence before Iruka realised what he’d have to do.
“Y-yes! I’m in here, just give me a moment-“ Iruka stuttered, trying his best to sound normal. “You can go ahead, I-ahh.”
You dipped your thumb into the slit at the tip of his cock and almost laughed at the small burst of killing intent you received in return.
“I’ll meet you at the gate,” Iruka bravely continued with a shaky voice. “I- I won’t be long.”
Silence fell over the bathroom for a moment. You could only imagine the look being shared between the two chunin.
“Riiiight,” Kotetsu said, already backing out of the room. “I guess we’ll uh… see you there in a bit.”
“Take your time,” Izumo snorted, voice clearly mocking, and just before the two left the bathroom, you heard what you assumed was Kotetsu smacking Izumo on the back of the head.
As they left, the room was plunged into silence once more before Iruka sighed.
“I hate you…” Iruka said, head falling against the door lightly. “…and hurry up, I have to go.”
“With pleasure, my omega.”
Iruka made it to the gate about 15 minutes late and was met with a grinning Izumo and Kotestu. Iruka flushed to the tips of his ears but said nothing and simply set off out of the gate, eager to make up for lost time.
Unfortunately, his wish to not speak about what had happened was rudely ignored while his team was setting up camp for the evening. Izumo crept up behind him as Iruka was sorting out rations for dinner.
“What is this, Iruka?” his voice was teasing and it set Iruka on edge. He whirled around quickly, prepared to do damage control.  
Only to see Izumo pulling something out of Iruka’s pack.
The something being a pair of your used underwear. One he definitely hadn’t packed.
Izumo and Kotestu lost it, collapsing to the floor in laughter.
Iruka was going to kill you.
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ateezmakemeweep · a year ago
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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)
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couldn’t tag: @ateez-after-dark @arkive78 
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cielinde · 7 months ago
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telescope
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in short: hakuji comforts you <3
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tags/warnings: su1c1dal thoughts, hurt & comfort notes: just a short drabble as an excuse to yk,, mainly self-indulgent butttt i decided to post it here too in case anyone's feeling the same way (it does get better, i promise) more under cut!
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“i don’t remember giving consent to be born.”
“y/n, you know that’s not how it works.”
you’re tired.
just tired.
maybe someone would just brush it off as you being sad, but you know that’s not the case. when life slaps you with so much shit and for no reason, how are you supposed to cope with it?
“i don’t like living, hakuji,” you say.
his embrace tightens around you, and you close your eyes, leaning your head against his chest as you hear the calming metronome of his slow, steady heartbeat. he nuzzles his chin on your head, and he holds you tighter than ever, and with him, you feel safer than ever.
“i’m proud of you,” he says softly. “i know not everything is easy, but i want you to know that i’m really proud of you for how much you’ve overcome. i know you’re hurt, and it pains me that i can’t just take all your pain and throw it away, but i’m here for you, okay?”
he’s so warm. he smells like the dreams of a thousand celestial blossoms, and his touch is gentle and soothing, and even if it won’t fully mend your broken state, he’s always a rock you can lean on, no less than a blessing to you.
“i’m so lucky to have you,” you whisper.
“no, y/n,” he smiles softly, “i’m lucky to have YOU. you don’t see what i see, but you’re one of the many blessings in life. you’re special to me, and i don’t want anything bad to happen to you, okay? not by anyone’s doing, or your own,” his tone is gentle, but you know he’s trying his best, he really is.
“i’m tired,” you whisper.
“it’s okay to cry,” he gently caresses your cheek.
“i’ve exhausted my tears,” you chuckle joylessly.
“you know you don’t have to cry alone. whatever it is, i’ll cry with you. you’re not alone in this, y/n,” he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you feel a bit better.
“i don’t know what i did to deserve you,” you open your eyes just a crack, and you see his beautiful blue eyes meeting yours. they remind you of a bright summer’s day, a sky so bright and beautiful, a daydream you love immersing yourself in.
“don’t say that,” he lightly pokes your cheek, “we’ll get through this together, okay? you and me. i’ll never leave your side, and no matter what, you’ll always have me.”
“i low-key want to run away,” you whisper absentmindedly, “like, just the two of us. we don’t need a destination in mind, we can just be happy together. i just hate what my life’s compiled into, you know? it’s like i’m constantly running away from the consequences of my actions but at the same time i feel like i do deserve a break.”
“and you do,” he says, “emotions are what make us…us. and even if things are bad right now, and what i say might be cheesy, it’ll get better. i just need you to hang in there, just a bit longer. i’m proud of you, y/n.”
tears prick your eyes, and maybe he’s right. you’ve lived through plenty of other challenges. you can do it again, and you have him by your side.
“thank you, hakuji,” you sniffle softly. “i’m not going anywhere.”
“and you’re strong for that,” he wipes your tears away, a relieved smile on his face. “there’s so many more hopes and dreams waiting for you. you’re a beautiful soul, and i’ll be with you in every step of the way. all the way until you feel much, much better, no matter how long that takes.”
you hug him tighter. “i’m here for you too, you know.”
“don’t turn this on me, now,” he chuckles softly. “i’ll always stay by your side, and every day that you’re here, on this planet, is truly something i’m thankful for. i could never ask to know someone better, so please, promise me you’ll talk to me about anything, okay?” you can hear the slight tremble in his voice, and when you look at him, you know you’re with the very blessing the universe has gifted you, even in the midst of a horrible state of mind.
“i promise,” you kiss his cheek. “i’m so thankful for you too, hakuji. i’ve never felt so blessed for anything in this world as much as you…”
“and i, you,” he smiles, and when you rest your head against his chest once again, he closes his eyes, too.
how rare and beautiful it is, to even exist.
how beautiful it is, that you’re with him, and he, with you.
sleep lulls the two of you, and with him, you feel safe, you feel peaceful.
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dreamcatcherrs · a year ago
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august - ranboo x reader
+ disclaimer! I don't know if ranboo actually has a cat :)
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ranboo x f!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: ranboo can’t help but to blush every time you look at him, not realising that he was falling even harder for you than he realised.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.478
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none :)
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song recommendation: august - taylor swift
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the first time he’d spotted you was in science class, near the end of the school year. that one time you looked up and smiled at him because of something stupid he’d said to his friend, that you for some reason found funny - he couldn’t stop thinking of that smile for the rest of the day. the image of you stuck in his head.
the next time he saw you was in p.e. you were wearing those pretty red sports shorts that you always wore, but he for some reason had never noticed until now. and whenever you’d walk or run past him, the smell of vanilla would follow behind you, filling his nostrils with the scent, and it felt heavenly. from that day on, he decided that he really liked the smell of vanilla.
weeks went by before you first talked to him. you were sat behind him and had poked his shoulder to ask him if he had a spare pencil for you to borrow. he breathed in, eyes wide from surprise. were you talking to him? it was only when you tilted your head to the side with a playful smile on your face that he realised he’d been zoned out, completely forgetting that he had to respond.
“uh- yeah, sure.” he’d fumbled with his backpack, trying to fish out his pencil case only to remember… he didn't have one. he moved his hands back again, looking back up at you as you leaned over the table with a patient smile on your face. “uhm… actually, I don't have one either.”
that made you laugh, and he was just confused, cheeks turning red in embarrassment. “well, I guess I can't really complain about that,” you giggled, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “I’m y/n, by the way. we have science together, I just don't think we ever got the chance to talk.” he grabbed the hand you’d put out to shake, staring into your bright eyes as you shook his hand. were there stars in your eyes? it looked like there was a whole other universe in there.
“I guess not-”
“hey, you two. eyes up here.” mr. jefferson, you douche-
“sorry mr. jefferson!” you apologised, before turning to send him a playful smile. as if you two had a secret that no one else knew about. he wondered if that smile was always able to get you out of trouble. he thought about it for a while as mr. jefferson explained the different historic sculptures, and then came to the conclusion, that no one could be mad at a person with such a smile for very long.
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“aww, you never told me you had a kitty!”
he threw his backpack onto the arm chair in his living room, letting out an exasperated sigh as you followed behind him, or rather, followed his cat behind him. he turned around to see you crouched down beside his cat, softly petting it  with the cutest smile on your face.
“yeah. pretty cute, right?” he joined you by petting the purring creature, heart bubbling with how cute the sight in front of him was. he wasn't just talking about the cat.
“well, should we get started?” you asked, shrugging your own backpack off and getting out a small notebook. he’d noticed you wrote in it a couple of times during the class before.
you’d both been assigned for a science project together - what a coincidence. he wasn't complaining though - not at all. you’d had fun times together in class since, now being sat beside each other. you’d gone to his place to put in some extra work ethic. “you’re lucky I actually like science! then we’ll get some work done.”
you plopped down on his couch, taking in the comfiness for a moment, before fishing out your computer. “are you implying something?” you giggled at his question, lifting a finger at him.
“that I do all of the work in science class while you sit and stare at me? yes.”
a wave of heat flooded over him, cheeks and ears turning red and his palms sweating up. was it that obvious?
you patted the spot on the couch beside you for him to sit down, a small smile etched onto your face. he did so, finding a comfortable way to sit in before looking over at your computer screen. you turned you head to him, scooting closer when you noticed he could barely see your screen. as if that would help his sweaty armpits and rosy cheeks…
“okay, do you remember our lesson about polar and non-polar electronegativity?” his face was blank. the words were foreign to him. was that the day you wore that pink lipstick? or did he just think that because he thought it looked so good on you?
you rolled your eyes playfully at his lack of response, proceeding to point at the screen and explain to him what it means. he listened to start off with, but then soon realised that his thoughts had drifted off to another place, eyes gazing over to look at you instead of the screen. and instead of listening, he started thinking about the way your lips moved - how cute and perfect they were. and how much he wanted to kiss them.
he lost his train of thought when you turned your head to him again, a frown on your face when noticing how lost in thought he was, clearly not paying attention, yet your look of disbelief quickly turned into a surprised expression. was he looking at you?
“you’re not listening.”
he looked bewildered for a moment, but quickly managed to clear his throat awkwardly, eyes turning to the screen again. “sorry.”
you began to explain again, and this time he only glanced over at you once when... was that blush on your cheeks?
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the first time he kissed you was one month later, summer break. you were at the local park, basking in the rays of sun as the summer was soon to end. the smell of freshly mowed grass was all that filled your nostrils, and the fresh breeze every now and then was enough to keep you from melting under the heat of the sun.
you were sat at a nice waterfall, your backs turned towards it as you ate the sandwiches you had just bought. the sound of water trickling out of the different places on the statue was pleasant for your ears, peaceful really.
he’d gone to push his longer hair out of his face, and then rest his hand beside him, in the middle of the two of you. but instead of meeting a cold surface, his hand met your soft one, that was already resting right where he was about to put his hand.
he heard you gasp softly, head turning to look down at your hands. he looked back at you with wide eyes, which you quickly returned when realizing what had happened, a rosy colour spreading over your cheeks. and right then, he couldn’t help himself. he knew you hadn’t known each other for that long, but he knew you. and he for sure knew that he liked you.
as your eyes stared into his, head slightly leaning in, he kissed you. soft and sweet and short, and when he pulled back again, your eyes were closed and you didn’t look displeased at all. and that’s when he knew, you liked him, too.
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“ranboo, I swear, if you rest your arm on my head one more time!”
he laughed at your small threat, removing his arm from its comfortable place on the top of your head. he ruffled your hair, just to annoy you, with a playful smirk on his face. you pouted at him, fixing your hair again and softly shoving at his chest.
“fine~ I’ll stop. you’re just so short, it’s hard not to,” he giggled, patting the top of your head lightly as he smiled down at you brightly.
“maybe you should just be shorter. then I won't have to get on my toes all the time to kiss you.” you crossed your arms, staring up at him with a smirk on your face.
he shrugged. “nah. I kinda like seeing you struggle with that.”
you rolled your eyes and let out a low grumble, acting like a kid who was just told they weren't allowed any candy. before you knew it, a dandelion was pushed back into your hair, followed suit by a quick peck on your cheek. your lips parted in surprise, eyes staring up at him again, before reaching your hand up to gently touch the flower, a small smile spreading across your face.
“now,” he started, leaning down to intertwine his fingers with yours. “shall we go out to enjoy the last day of august?”
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_____________________________________
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barzalsworld · 4 months ago
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48 with Bordeleau!
48. "call me whenever you're free, i just want to hear your voice."
100 follower celebration (accepting requests through tonight)
it was exciting getting to see thomas live out his dreams of making it to the nhl, but the distance sucked. you’d spent the past 2 years in the same city at college, and being apart now made your heart ache. you missed him, but the happiness you saw on his face made everything worth it.
you’d been texting whenever you could, but with the whirlwind of going straight from school to san jose for the ahl, to almost immediately signing with the sharks, the two of you hadn’t really had any time to talk. it was hard, you were used to talking to him every single day, but the season would be over soon, and you knew you had the summer to look forward to.
y/n: hi baby i hope you’re having a good day!
thomas: hi mon amour, call me whenever you’re free, i just want to hear your voice
you smile at his message, immediately clicking the button to facetime him, watching as his face lit up your screen. “hi, mon amour,” he greets, a big smile on his face. you can tell he’s just got back from practice, his hair still damp from his shower. “i miss you.”
“i miss you, too,” you say, a sad smile on your face. “but i love getting to see you live out your dreams, so the distance right now is worth it.”
“we’ll be together again soon,” he reassures you, running a hand through his hair. “it’s so good to finally hear your voice again.”
you feel yourself start to tear up, and you move your phone from your face, not wanting thomas to see your tears. it would only make him worry, and you didn’t want that. “baby, are you okay?” he says, and you shake your head a little, knowing there was no use in pretending. he knew you better than anyone, and he could always tell when you were upset, even without the tears. “y/n, look at me please.”
you draw your eyes back to the screen, seeing nick’s concerned gaze there. “i just miss you,” you whisper, not even sure if he can hear you. “but i feel so selfish knowing that you’re off living your dream.”
“oh, babe,” he says, a frown forming on his face. “you don’t have to feel selfish for missing me, i miss you, too. i wish you were here getting to experience all of this with me, but i know you’re always watching from home.”
“i watch every interview, every game, and i’ve saved every single picture of you to my camera roll,” you say with a chuckle, wiping at your face. “i’m just so damn proud of you.”
“i know, baby,” he says, smiling at you through the phone. “you’re my biggest fan always, and i can’t wait until i can kiss you again.”
“soon, bordy,” you smile, feeling the weight of earlier lift of your shoulders. the distance was rough, and you wanted nothing more than to just be back with thomas, but you would have to wait a little bit longer. conversations like this just reminded you how thankful you were for him, and how thankful you were for the way he loved you always.
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seijorhi · a year ago
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Bully ~ Part II
Oikawa Tooru x female reader (+ Iwaizumi Hajime)
TW dub/non-con, bullying, slight degradation, voyeurism, filming, implied abuse, one mention of slapping, nsfw
Part I
‘Honey, it’s your choice. Whatever you decide to do, we’ll respect.’
The final whistle sounds, the team gathering up in a huddle and with a sigh you dutifully close your books and begin to pack them away into your bag. They still have to pull down all the nets and tidy up, but that never takes too long and the sooner you’re all out of here the better.
The sooner you can get away from them, the better.
It’s become routine at this point for you to slowly make your way down to the edge of the court while they duck into the locker room; the other third years acknowledging you with friendly enough smiles, the underclassmen no longer staring at you in vague confusion. 
But at this point you’re truly beyond caring what any of them think of your relationship with their Captain. 
Except instead of filing out like the rest of his teammates, Oikawa’s still on the far side of the court, trapped in a conversation with Coach Irihata and Mizoguchi. For a split second, his attention shifts towards you, lingering awkwardly by the big double doors, and you think you catch a flicker of irritation in his eyes – which is unusual, considering that he’s made this game his life and he has nothing but the greatest respect for both of the men before him. 
But it doesn’t really matter, you suppose. You’ll wait for him, whether it’s five minutes or fifty and he’ll either tell you what’s pissing him off, or he won’t and he’ll end up using you to work out his frustrations anyway.
With your parents away for the rest of the week and your house otherwise empty, you can only pray to any god that’ll listen that he won’t try and spend the night. Not that there’s much you can do to stop him, but a girl can dream, right?
The others are heading off, Makki laughing off some biting comment from Kyoutani, but you pay them no mind. Despite being the people you now spend the majority of your time with, they’re not your friends. 
You resign yourself to trudging back up into the stands to wait for Oikawa to finish up when a hand gently wraps around your arm, spinning you around. You start, every muscle in your body tensing on instinct, but as you come face to face with familiar olive eyes you relax – it’s only Iwa.
He regards you silently for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face before he glances over your shoulder to where Oikawa’s still talking with the coaches. 
“C’mon, they’ll be a while, I think. Let me walk you home.”
His place is almost a fifteen minute walk from yours, but you don’t bother trying to bring that up. Instead, you just shrug, shifting the strap of the bag slung over your shoulder, “It’s fine. I don’t need an escort, you know, it’s not that late.”
Maybe it’d be nice for once, walking home without Oikawa’s looming presence over your shoulder. You’re almost positive that he’ll still come by afterwards, especially because he knows as well as you do that there’s nobody to interrupt tonight, but you’ll take the tiny wins when you can.
Besides, you only have to stick it out a little while longer. 
Still holding onto your arm, Iwa’s eyebrows draw together into a slight frown and he bites back a sigh, “Shittykawa’ll throw a hissy-fit if I let you walk home alone tonight. C’mon.”
He’s not asking, you realise belatedly as he firmly but gently starts to lead you out of the gym, not sparing his best friend another glance. And you could probably dig your heels in and kick up a fuss and he’d probably let you go – at least, you think he would. He would, right? He’d listen if you asked him to stop – but what’s the point?
Nobody here actually cares what you want anymore.
Iwa’s different, you suppose. You don’t really know why. He’s just as complicit as the others, maybe even more so – he at least knows what’s going on, even if he refuses to acknowledge it or do anything about it… but that’s not entirely true, is it?
He’s the one to step in when Oikawa starts to take things too far in public. He’s the one to scare off your would be bullies, snarling and glaring at them from his place at your side. Iwa’s the reason you haven’t lost it completely, the one keeping your head above water. He’s a friend you suppose, or at least the closest thing Oikawa’ll let you have anymore.
He’s certainly the only one Tooru trusts with you whenever he’s not around, hence you haven’t heard any indignant shouts from the gym following in your wake despite the grip he has on you.
And Iwa is nice, in his own way. He cares about you, you think – or he cares enough to pretend for Oikawa’s sake. Either way, at least you know he won’t try to pull you down an alleyway and force you to suck his cock, so compared to your other options, he’s definitely the lesser of two evils. 
It’s quiet as the two of you walk, and you find yourself thankful for it. Oikawa’s always talking, he never shuts up, his incessant chatter shattering every moment of quiet, peaceful solitude you try to steal for yourself. 
And tonight, tonight your head’s already too full to pretend to play along with some semblance of chipper friendliness. 
Maybe that’s why you like Iwaizumi; you don’t have to pretend with him. He knows exactly what Oikawa is, and he’s too intelligent to believe that you’re content spending every waking moment by the setter’s side, much less that you genuinely love him. 
It’s a nice night, at least – there’s barely any clouds in the sky. You can see the stars glittering in the inky, midnight blue, and it’s peaceful, you think, with Iwa strolling quietly along beside you. 
Even when the breeze starts to pick up, the late summer night air nipping at your exposed skin. Your jacket’s folded up and shoved somewhere towards the bottom of your bag, but you honestly can’t be bothered to stop and ferret for it. 
“You’re cold,” Iwa states after a beat. Again, not a question.
Nevertheless, you shake your head. “I’m fine,” you reply, perhaps a little tersely, but he’s already shrugging off his own jacket and draping it over your shoulders. Oikawa would do the same thing, more out of a perverse sense of enjoyment from seeing you wearing his clothes than a genuine sense of concern over your comfort.
Still, you don’t fight Iwa on it, pulling his jacket tighter over your body. It’s warm, his lingering body heat making your own cheeks burn a little, and it smells like him, too. Musky, yes, but there’s something almost comforting about the fresh, woodsy scent.
Silence resumes between the two of you, but you feel the weight of his stare as the two of you wander along the path. Iwaizumi’s always been perceptive, more so than most give him credit for, and it’s only another few minutes before he speaks again.
“You’re quiet tonight.”
You hum noncommittally, staring resolutely at the concrete sidewalk rather than meet his pointed gaze. 
He huffs. “You gonna tell me what’s bothering you or not?” he tries again, the sheer bluntness almost enough to make you flinch.
“And what makes you think there’s anything bothering me?” you reply dully, kicking at the small little pebble on the pathway in front of you.
Iwa stiffens just a fraction, but you feel it – the shift in the air between the two of you. It’s the truth you won’t speak, the one he won’t acknowledge. Of course there’s something bothering you; this whole fucked up situation between the three of you. It’s not normal, it’s not healthy, surely he sees that, how the hell can he–
“Cut the bullshit,” he snaps. “You think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been acting lately? Something’s up, and if you think I’m the only one who’s paying attention…” he trails off, and suddenly his hand’s catching at yours, pulling you to a stop.
And when finally you drag your eyes up to meet his, your heartbeat quickens at the scowl written across his face, plain as day. 
“I’m not talking about… that. Did he–” he hesitates, biting down on his lip and you honestly don’t know whether you want to laugh or cry. “Something’s up.”
You could probably tell him to mind his own business, and part of you almost wants to. He might even listen, though he wouldn’t be happy about it, but the thing is, you’re just so tired. Tired of playing girlfriend for Oikawa, tired of being dragged along against your will, manhandled and fucked at every opportunity, tired of pretending that this is in any way okay, and you just want to finally give in and admit it out loud.
You want this to be over, and it’s so close you can almost fucking taste it. 
So you breathe deep, forcing yourself to relax. “My mom got a job in Tokyo. My parents… they’re leaving at the end of next week. Moving. It’s why they haven't been around much lately.”
Iwaizumi’s eyebrows furrow into a frown as he takes a second to absorb the information. “And… you? We only have a few months left until we graduate.”
You allow him a wry smile. “I know. They gave me a choice, I’m eighteen, I can stay here in the house by myself, finish up the year and graduate at Aoba Johsai before moving down with them…”
“Or?” he prods.
“Or,” you continue, “or I can go now. There’s some really good schools down there, I could have my pick. It’ll be a struggle, I know, transferring so late in the term, but–”
Iwaizumi scoffs, cutting you off, “But you’re not actually gonna go, right? You can’t just pack up and leave so close to graduation. You’re staying here in Miyagi.” 
He almost sounds angry– the muscle in his jaw’s twitching and as you stare at him you realise that he doesn’t sound angry; he is angry. His whole body’s tensed like he’s preparing for a fight, and it takes you by surprise. 
Sure, he’s pretty much the only person outside of Oikawa that you’d consider yourself to have any kind of relationship with anymore, but you’d never really thought he’d actually–
“Iwa,” you say gently, “I was gonna go to Tokyo after graduation anyway. Sure, it’s not exactly an ideal situation, but…” 
But it’s your chance to get away from all of this, from Oikawa, and you’re gonna take it and run. Whether or not Tokyo University accepts you, whether it means you have to work three times as hard to adjust to a new school’s curriculum just so you won’t completely flunk your final exams. 
It can’t be any worse than this.
He has to understand that. 
And really, what did he think was going to happen after graduation? You know Oikawa’s plans, and you’ll be damned if you let him ruin your life anymore than he already has, dragging you halfway across the world. You belong here, in Japan. Oikawa can go chase his pipe dreams on his own. 
He swallows tightly, and while the pinched scowl on his face doesn’t falter, his grip on your wrist eases just a fraction. “You were really just gonna leave without telling anybody?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.
“Who would I tell?”
Sure enough, it’s a little after midnight when your bedroom door sweeps open and Oikawa strides in like he owns the place. You watch through half lidded eyes as he starts to shed his clothes, stripping off and tossing them haphazardly onto the floor until he’s just in his boxers. 
He doesn’t say much as he lifts the covers and climbs into bed beside you, merely presses a surprisingly gentle kiss to your cheek, murmuring a quiet, ‘Just sleep, cutie,’ when you try to shift away from him.
He sounds tired, exhausted really, but you don’t care enough to comment, relieved more than anything that tonight he doesn’t seem to have the energy for more. There’d been some part of you that was worried that Iwa might have told him about the walk home – the secrets you’d unthinkingly entrusted to him – but he can’t have. There’s no possible way Oikawa would be so calm right now if he had. 
And Iwa wouldn’t do something like that in the first place. 
It might not have been the most traditional of friendships, and you know he’s still a little pissed off with your decision and the fact you had no intentions of telling him, but Iwa wouldn’t break your trust like that. 
And so with Oikawa’s arms wrapped around your middle, the warmth of his chest pressed up against your back, you allow sleep to claim you once more.
You hardly see him the following morning. 
There’s no sign of him when you wake up, though his side of the bed is still warm – you know he likes to run in the mornings; he probably ran home to shower before school. And if you’re grateful to Aoba Johsai for anything, it’s for putting the two of you in separate classes. You’re spared his presence and those of his mooney eyed fangirls, and you can actually focus on learning. Or try to, at least.
Iwa regards you with an unreadable expression when you take your usual seat at the desk next to his, but at least he doesn’t seem as pissed off as he was when he left you last night. You only have a week and a half left until you go, but considering he’s the closest thing you have to a friend anymore, you’re not sure how you would survive if he suddenly decided to give you the cold shoulder.
Still, he is quieter than usual as you both settle into class, and you can’t help your gaze from flickering over to him throughout the lesson, an uncomfortable pit settling into your stomach. Iwa doesn’t so much as look your way, busying himself in copying down the notes the teacher’s scrawling on the board.
You honestly didn’t expect him to be hurt, and as he brushes past you on his way out after the bell rings you begin to doubt whether you should have told him at all. It stings, more than you expect.
Yet the moment you try to follow him, calling out his name, a familiar figure steps in front of you, halting you in your tracks. 
“Hey, cutie,” Oikawa purrs, grinning down at you as he reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair back behind your ear. “I’ve missed you today. Come on, let’s go somewhere a little quieter.”
His fingers are laced with yours, tugging you along before you can even try to voice a protest. You both know you wouldn’t anyway, not anymore. 
Just like you don’t speak up when instead of dragging you outside to the courtyard, or even to the gym, he chooses an empty classroom, kicking the door shut behind him. 
There’s a question on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t have a chance to voice it as he grabs you by the collar of your shirt and smashes his lips to yours. 
Oikawa usually likes to take his time, to drag out your humiliation and reluctant pleasure as he toys with you, but today he wastes no time in shoving you back up against one of the desk, his fingers already yanking down your necktie and prying your lilac shirt open – buttons scattering as it rips.
“Tooru–” you gasp, panic flaring, but his lips curl into a smirk as he forces you back into another kiss.
“Quiet now, cutie, let me take care of my pretty girl, hm?” he growls between panting breaths. “You don’t want somebody stumbling in and interrupting us, do you?”
And your chest tightens, squeezing around your lungs like a vice, your gaze flickering back to the door – shut but not locked.
“Tooru,” you whisper again in a panic, clutching at the lapels of his blazer as he draws back enough to level a gaze at your chest, bare save for the virginal white lace bra you’d unthinkingly chosen that morning. 
His grin widens, but there’s something cold and utterly unflinching in his eyes as they flicker up to meet yours. “Lean back,” he tells you.
You shake your head, “I d-don’t–”
His hands are on your shoulders, abruptly shoving you backwards. “I said,” he coos as you sprawl back onto the wooden desktop with a startled squeak, “lean back for me.”
It’s been months since you’ve fought him, but as he flips up your skirt, fingers grazing possessively along the cotton of your panties and he sighs contentedly, sheer panic floods your system, overwhelming your better judgement. Before you can stop yourself your knees come up as you desperately scramble to right yourself, to put an end to this–
The slap to your cheek isn’t all that forceful, at least not compared to what you know him to be capable of, but it still takes you by surprise, the sharp, burning sting only registering as the shock of the blow fades.
Oikawa’s no longer grinning, his face twisted into a terrifying glare as wide, teary eyes stare back up at him. “Baby, you’re really testing me right now. You want to act like a disobedient little bitch, kick up a fuss, bring everybody running so they can see what a needy little whore you are, spread out on the table for me?” He snatches at your panties, harshly wrenching them down your now prone legs with one hand, the other reaching for his belt buckle, “You think you have a choice here? You think I give a fuck what you want?”
Your ears are ringing, the sound of your own heartbeat drowning out almost everything else.
It’s not the first time he’s hit you, or even the hardest, but with that one slap all the fight you have left just dissipates. You don’t even flinch when he spits directly onto your pussy, his thumb harshly spreading his saliva over your cunt – you just bite down on your lip to stifle the sob that threatens to burst.
And victory shines bright in his eyes at the sight of it. 
“Good girl, you know who this pretty pussy belongs to, don’t you?” he croons with saccharine sweetness, even leaning over to press a tender, affectionate kiss to your swollen lips. 
And you’d squeeze your eyes shut and try to imagine that you’re somewhere else, anywhere else if you didn’t know how much he hates it when you do. So instead, you lie there pliant and trembling, humiliation burning hot as he spreads your legs, pressing your thighs back towards your chest as he slots himself in between them.
“You look so good like this, you know?” he muses with a soft little chuckle as he leisurely strokes his cock, letting the flushed tip brush teasingly along your folds, nudging at your clit. “Prettiest little thing, and all mine, aren’t you, cutie.”
Tears well and spill soundlessly down your cheek, but your only answering is the hiccuping breath you draw in, your fingers finding purchase on the edges of the desk as he guides it back to your entrance.
It doesn’t matter that you’re not nearly ready for him, that his spit and the pre-cum that’s beading at his slit isn’t going to help ease his passage in the slightest. He’ll fuck you how he wants to – and you’re too broken to try and stop him.
Yet instead of savagely plunging in like you expect him to, Oikawa stills, regarding you with a tilted head and a cruel smirk. 
“Fuck,” he curses quietly, the sound almost reverent as he stares down at you. He shakes his head, another soft laugh bubbling out, “I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of seeing you like this, but if you’re going to be running off on me so soon, maybe I should take a little memento, what do you think cutie?”
Your stomach drops, dread creeping down your spine as Oikawa reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, opening up the camera and flicking it across to video. 
“I mean if this is going to be our last time together, don’t you think we should make it special?” You jerk, your breath coming out in short, harsh pants but you can’t move, can’t seem to lift a single finger as he leans in closer, bringing his lips to your ear, “That way we both have something to remember this by.”
And as his breath ghosts the tiny hairs on the shell of your ear he laughs again, pressing another quick kiss to your flushed, tear stained cheek. “Aw, don’t cry, cutie. You brought this on yourself.”
You don’t have a moment to prepare yourself, his hand slamming over your lips to muffle your shrieks as he thrusts his hips forward, sheathing himself in your tight little cunt with a choked moan.
“F-fuck, baby,” he grits out, biting down on his own lip as he relishes the vice like grip your pussy has on his throbbing cock, “Smile for the camera.”
Your back arcs up off the table, fingernails digging into the wood as he draws his hips back slowly, letting you feel every inch of his cock as it drags along your walls until it’s only the tip that remains inside of you.
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts – a sharp and throbbing pain that only grows with each passing second. 
There’s something sadistic in his grin as he angles the phone down to where your bodies meet, your lewdly spread thighs, your glistening pussy in perfect view as another glob of saliva joins the first, pooling over your sex, sliding down his cock.
“You have no idea how perfect your pussy feels, baby,” he pants, slowly filling you up once more – your own wails stifled by his hand. “You’re mine, all fucking mine, aren’t you?”
There’s no hiding from the camera as he fucks you, slowly at first, but picking up his pace as the slick starts to build, your warm, velvety walls sucking him in deeper, squelching obscenely with every thrust. And between the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass – skin hitting skin as he fucks you roughly without care – and Tooru’s own satisfied moans, your muffled whimpers and cries go unheard. 
And just when you think your humiliation is complete, he takes his hand from your mouth, his thumb returning to your clit, teasing at the sensitive nub with slow, measured circles that have you keening, shaking beneath him as he stuffs you full. Slowly but surely that searing ache gives way to pleasure, a slight shift of his hips and his cock’s hitting that sweet spot he’s all too familiar with – and another strangled moan slips out.
“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”
You shake your head, fingernails digging into the wood, biting down harshly to keep yourself quiet as you feel that familiar heat pooling in your core, wanton pleasure flickering through you with every swipe of his fingers, every harsh thrust.
“No? You sure about that?” he laughs at the desperate whine that slips from your lips, “I wanna hear it, baby. Cum for me.”
But you can’t, you can’t make a sound, the door’s not locked, the door’s not locked and anybody could walk in any second, but you can feel it coming, your legs shaking and toes curling as your control slips–
“Cum,” Oikawa demands, his own voice a husky, shivering growl, and this time you’re helpless but to obey.
Your orgasm crashes into you like a wave, suddenly sweeping your legs out from under you. You arc up off the table once more, white hot pleasure exploding as you shiver and quake, your pussy clamping down on his cock and gushing as he fucks you relentlessly through it, chasing his end while drawing out your own.
And you’re so lost in the bliss, the pleasurable rippling aftershocks short circuiting your system that you don’t even realise that he’s pulled himself out of your cunt, stroking his slicked up cock with harsh pants–
Not until you feel the hot spurts of his cum hitting your stomach, a choked moan resembling your name shattering the fuzzy afterglow, dragging you harshly back down to reality.
There’s a twisted, self satisfied smirk on his face as he watches the cold realisation sink in, your eyes filling with fresh tears as your gaze flickers between him and the phone in his hand, still filming.
“You’re not leaving me,” he says, still a little breathless. “You’re mine. Isn’t that right, Iwa?”
No.
Please god, no.
Blood drains from your face, the pit in your stomach plummeting as his smirk widens and he turns his head to glance over his shoulder. You don’t want to look, can’t bear to, but it’s like trying to rip your eyes away from a car crash; your body moves with a will of its own. Heart pounding, nausea churning in your gut, you follow his gaze to find Iwaizumi by the door; jaw tight, arms folded across his chest, staring impassively back at you.
And that last little piece of you breaks.
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watchmegetobsessed · a year ago
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Tastes Like Strawberries - Harry Styles
a/n: oh this one is a long boi and might not be the end??? i’ve been working on this fic for days and i have an idea for a possible second part, but i wrote this one so it has a fulfilling ending so it can stand as a oneshot as well! i barely just started working on the sequel, we’ll se how it’ll turn out, maybe it goes to shit lmao but whatever, it’s still a nice and whole story without a second part! this is my V-day gift to you all, have this nice professor!harry fic as if it was a box of chocolate! 🍓 🍫 🍬
special thanks to @pastequeharry​ who put up with my constant rambling and whining while i was writing this, you are a hero, his is dedicated to you!!
pairing: professor!Harry x Reader
warning: sexual content, abusing relationship, it’s got smut, angst, lot’s of banter and all that jazz!
word count: 21.4k
masterlist
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There’s just a handful of things to know about Professor Harry Styles and that’s because of one of those very few known facts, the first one being that he is a highly private person. He rarely talks about himself or any aspects of his life, he always makes sure to keep it as professional as possible whenever he is teaching.
Second, he is easily the smartest professor to ever walk on campus, but he doesn’t like to brag about it. You never catch him showing off how much he knows, how big of a genius he is, you’ll just start to realize from the way he teaches and approaches certain topics, how he interacts with others and tries to pass his knowledge down to his students. He is brilliant and he should have all the credits for it, yet he still chooses to keep it to himself.
Third, and it’s the most well-known fact because to see this you just need to have a pair of eyes, he is undeniably the most handsome man to ever teach or if you’re being more precise, walk the hallways of the university. No football crazy, alcoholic fratboy or dreamy looking indie guy from the library can live up to what Professor Harry Styles is. With a face clearly carved by the angels, a nicely built but not too muscular frame, and occasionally displayed tattooed arm that makes you wonder what other artworks his stylish outfits are hiding, there’s no man like him and every female on campus agrees with that.
His lectures and courses are jampacked with sighing and heart-eyed college girls, daydreaming about the man who is solemnly just trying to teach the things he is so passionate about. But it’s not just the students, Professor Styles has managed to charm the female professors of all faculties, you can see them wander by his office way too often, they take any opportunity to talk to the man and try to seduce him. It’s unknown if he is oblivious to the effect he has on women or he chooses to ignore every and any attempts, but this is what leads us to the fourth fact.
Despite all the effort and energy that’s been put into his case by every single woman on campus to break the walls the professor has built around himself, he never let any of his students or colleagues to even think they could be romantically linked for real. Professor Styles keeps his distance and turns down any offer that could be mistaken to anything that doesn’t fit in the professional boundaries.
Anytime a student puts on the slightest flirtatious act towards the professor, he either rejects it straight away or ignores it completely and blatantly, making it his clear answer that he is not interested and then he goes back to teaching. You’ve seen it yourself, having him as one of your professors first year of uni, you fell for him just like every other girl in the lecture hall, dreaming about him in ways you probably shouldn’t think of a teacher while he was just casually talking about his grading system and how he is going to build up the lectures throughout the semester. Some brave girls who you assume were highly celebrated by boys in high school took the courage to openly flirt with him, but he didn’t even flinch before shutting all attempts down, not even a blush appeared on his perfectly cut cheekbones.
You thought of ways you’d try to seduce him yourself, but you never actually tried. You never had the balls to actually give it a go and then suffer from the worst embarrassment of your life when he rejects you. So you kept it all to yourself, only entertaining yourself with your elaborate plans about the seduction of your professor.
Second year passed without any classes with Professor Styles, you had only occasionally seen him come and go, rushing down the hallways holding his notebooks to his chest, a steaming cup of coffee in his other hand as he was heading to his lecture hall that you just knew was filled with girls. You always took a moment to yourself to admire his outfit. He has a tendency to pair odd items and make them look like the most put together fit ever that only he can pull off. However, you and your girlfriends always loved to tease him between each other for his grandpa-like sweaters and vests he seemed to love dearly.
“He confuses me, because I want him to fuck me on his desk but also, I feel like he is about to ask me what periodt means because he is too old to understand slang these days,” your friend, Nat said once when your little group was lounging under the huge oak tree between classes and the professor rushed past you, disappearing in the building without paying any of you a look. He wore a pair of beige slacks and a striped sweater, a wrinkly grey shirt peeking from under it at the bottom. The colors and the style overall once again gave you that old people feeling, but then you looked at his handsome face and couldn’t care any less about whatever he was wearing.
The most intimate way you ever saw him was a few days after your twenty-first birthday the summer before your last year of uni started. You just got back from your hometown, the first person to arrive back to your shared flat with Nat and Eden, so you had a few days on your own. You decided to redecorate your room so you took a trip to IKEA, taking your time looking through the set up rooms, just wandering around as you try to figure out what you really want to buy. Walking through the living room section you spotted the professor and first, you didn’t even recognize him.
He was wearing a pair of bright yellow shorts and a short sleeved shirt with floral prints on it, a pair of white framed sunglass on top of his head, keeping his unruly strands out of his face as he was eyeing a couch, seemingly deep in his thoughts. You stopped in your tracks, seeing him in such a casual and everyday setting. For some reason, he seemed like a completely different person.
A woman was there with him and as you walked closer you could hear a fraction of their discussion.
“I don’t know, Gems. Do I need a couch this big?”
“Looks comfy and I like the color. It would also fit in the space just right, I think you should get the bigger one if you have the space for it,” the woman put her two cents in and you wondered who she could be. Girlfriend? Just a casual friend? Maybe fiancé? She did have a ring that could easily go as an engagement ring so you couldn’t tell for sure.
As you were about to walk past you suddenly took the courage to say hi.
“Hello, Professor Styles!” you greeted him with a warm smile and his eyes flickered over to you from the couch in question. One thing you always admired about him is that he never forgot the faces of his students and as he looked at you, you knew he recognized you even if he didn’t know your name specifically.
“Oh, hello,” he nodded in your way.
“I like the couch,” you commented before slowly moving on. “Have a nice rest of your summer!”
“You too, Y/N,” he called after you and it took you by surprise that he remembered your name. Your lecture he taught had almost over a hundred students in it and you weren’t the most active one to stand out that easily, yet he still remembered you more than you were expecting.
That small encounter kept you thinking about him for way longer than you probably should have, especially because you knew you’d have a lecture with him again in the upcoming semester. Your daydreams about him made their way back into your mind as you spent the last days of your summer mostly with your friends. It got you thinking that if you managed to get him to remember your name, maybe you would give one of your plans a go and shoot your shot. He wouldn’t be teaching you in your last semester so you wouldn’t have to face him after he rejects you.
And this is how you came up with your little scheme.
On your last Sunday evening before school starts, you, Nat and Eden sit in the floor of your living room, drinking some white wine as a way of saying goodbye to the carefree summer moments and getting back to the working days of being a senior at uni. Professor Styles came up completely randomly and you let it slip that you’ve just seen him recently at IKEA with a woman and it all led to you admitting that you’ll finally shoot your shot at the professor. Nat and Eden both did the same already, however their attempts were completely ignored and they always bugged you to give it a try yourself, being the only one in your group who hasn’t tried to seduce the professor yet.
“I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell me it’s stupid because I actually think it’ll be funny and a little bit genius,” you tell them before you start sharing the details on your plan.
“Just spill the beans already!” Eden pokes you before she reaches for the bottle and refills her glass.
“Okay, so you both know I took this psychology class last semester for extra credits, right?” The nod and you continue. “The teacher told us about this thing called classical conditioning or they call it pavlovian response too. The guy, Pavlov, did an experiment where he paired the feeding of dogs with a bell ring and after a certain amount of time the dogs started salivating at just the sound of the bell, because they remembered that it’s connected to food. The teacher said this is literally one of the easiest tricks to pull on people.”
“Oh, isn’t this one of the things Jim did on Dwight in The Office?” Nat asks furrowing her eyebrows.
“It is!” you nod, glad that they are understanding the base of your plan. “So, I’ve heard that Professor Styles loves strawberry flavored candies. I thought that I would bring some every day when I see him and offer him some. Slowly, he’ll pair the candy with the thought of me and he’ll get excited when he sees me because he’ll think I have candy for him and it will hopefully work the other way around and he’ll think of me when he is eating strawberry flavored candy that’s not from me.”
Your friends blink at you for a moment, processing what you just shared with them before Eden takes a huge sip of her drink.
“This is the most ridiculous but also the most genius thing I’ve ever heard,” she nods holding her glass up towards you.
“I can’t believe you will pull a psychological experiment on Professor Styles,” Nat shakes her head with a soft chuckle.
“It’s not a blunt way to get closer to him and if he accuses me of trying to flirt I can just say that I’ve been only sharing candy with him, I literally did nothing,” you point out, pretty proud of your solution to your deep fear of having to take his rejection publicly.
“If you get a Noble for this shit, make sure to thank us in your speech,” Eden laughs and you promise to do so when the big moment comes.
Monday morning you make a quick trip to Target and buy a big bag of strawberry flavored candies, probably enough to last for the whole semester, and then you make your way to campus. Following your first lecture you meet up with Eden who also signed up for Professor Styles’ lecture this semester, so the two of you make your way towards the lecture hall together.
“I really can’t believe you are doing this,” she chuckles when you get the candy ready as you near the room. The professor is always the first one in the lecture hall so you know you’ll find him there already.
“You can’t tell me it’s not a funny plan,” you smirk at her. And just as you walk in, you immediately spot the professor sitting at the desk at the front, going over the syllabus before the start. “Save a seat for me,” you tell Eden who just laughs and makes her way up the stairs along the desks.
Grabbing the pack of sweets from your bag you walk up to the professor, feeling confident with your plan. He lifts his head up when he notices your arrival and your eyes meet with his green ones.
“Hello, professor. Would you like some candy?” you simply ask with an innocent smile.
Professor Styles stares at you for a moment before his eyes move down to the candy in your hand, the opening of the bag facing him in a welcoming manner.
“I, uhh… what flavor?” he curiously asks and you can barely push down your smirk.
“Strawberry.”
“Oh. I’ll… take one, thank you,” he nods, hand reaching into the bag as he grabs just one single candy, unwrapping the package before he pops it into his mouth. “Thank you,” he nods again with a delightful smile.
“Of course. Did you buy the couch?” you ask, taking slow steps away from the desk as he keeps his eyes on you.
“I… did not. Bought another one,” he admits shortly and you know you’ve reached the limit. If you ask more, he’ll get suspicious, so you just nod smiling before walking up to the spot Eden has reserved for you. When you sit down, you catch the professor paying you one last glance before he returns to what he was previously doing.
“You are a genius, because now we can watch him suck on a fucking candy for the next few minutes,” Eden mumbles quietly, making you laugh.
“I knew this would be a good plan,” you sigh, satisfied with the work you’ve done. Now it’s just a matter of time.
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Every Monday and Wednesday, you arrive with the same bag of candy to the lecture hall, walk up to Professor Styles and offer him one. And he always takes one. The first few times he seems hesitant when he spots you approaching him, but he slowly grows used to your tiny act of kindness that occurs every time you see him. On week three you expand the plan. You usually have lunch with Nat on Thursdays since you both have a break between one and two pm. The two of you try to take advantage of the warm early autumn days and sit under the pergola that’s near the building where Professor Styles’ office is as well. It’s mere coincidence, you only like that place because it’s close to the lecture hall you have to go to after lunch, but you notice that the professor emerges from Building C around one thirty, walking back to his office probably after one of his classes. The sidewalk runs directly next to the pergola so it gives you a chance to bring the candy out one more time every week. You nicely greet him when he is nearing the two of you and then hold out the bag, asking if he wants some. He always takes one and thanks you with a sweet smile that leaves you a tad bit blushed.
“I can’t fucking believe your plan is working,” Nat chuckles in disbelief on one occasion when the professor just disappeared in the building, probably happily unwrapping his candy of the day.
“It’s funny, innit?” you grin at her proudly.
Frankly, this is just a fun experiment for you. You don’t actually think that the professor will think of you differently even the slightest. You might be able to plant the thought of you in his head, but that doesn’t instantly mean that he’ll start fancying you and actually do something about it. It would be ridiculously naïve to think it’s going to be you who breaks through the wall that hundreds of women had already tried to knock down.
Week six is what brings the breakthrough. After long consideration and discussion with Nat and Eden, you decide to test if the experiment has been successful. You offer one last candy on Monday, but Wednesday brings the change. You go to lecture without candy. Well, you have it on you, but you decide not to ask him if he wants some.
Walking into the lecture hall, as always, he is already sitting at his desk, flipping through the pages of a book when you walk up to him with the intention of asking him a question on the paper that’s due next week.
“Professor Styles?” you softly speak up, catching his attention. “Can I have a question about the paper?”
“Of course,” he nods and you can’t tell just yet if he was expecting the candy or not.
“I was wondering if I can use a diagram to visualize my results at the end. I have a brilliant idea to summarize the data with one.”
“Sure, just make sure to give credit wherever it’s due, if you are using someone else’s work for the diagram.”
“Definitely,” you smile at him and wait a moment. That’s where you see the anticipation in his eyes.
His gaze flickers down to your hands and then to your bag where you always carry the candy and when his eyes meet yours again, you see him swallow hard.
He was expecting the candy. Not only expecting, but he started salivating when he saw you, thinking that he would get the candy from you as always.
“Is… that all?” he asks, the slightest hint of hope appearing in his tone, probably waiting for you to pull the bag of candy out of your bag and offer him one. But it’s not happening today.
“Yes, thank you very much,” you nod smiling widely before you turn around and walk away, a shocked and triumphant look appearing on your face once he can’t see it anymore and when Eden sees you, she gasps.
“He fucking expected the candy, didn’t he?!” she whispers at you in shock and you nod frantically, still not believing your plan worked.
“You should have seen the anticipation in his eyes, he really thought I was gonna offer him some!”
“Oh my God, this is hilarious!” Eden laughs covering her mouth as the lecture hall starts to fill up slowly.
Turning forward, you see that the professor is sitting behind his desk, the book that had his attention before your arrival is long forgotten in front of him, now he is staring ahead of him with slightly furrowed eyebrows, deep in his thoughts.
Is he thinking about you? Or why he was expecting candy from you?
You see him reach for his water bottle and he takes two big gulps probably to wash away his need for the candy before he narrows his eyes and at last they find you in the auditorium. You tilt your head to the side innocently smiling, as if you know absolutely nothing about anything. You keep eye-contact, forcing you not to be the one who breaks it and he is intimidating. You feel like he can read your mind as he stares at you and when he finally turns his gaze back at the book, you exhale sharply.
The lecture goes down just as usual and when the professor dismisses the class you decide to put the cherry to the top. Walking down between the desks you grab a candy from your bag and while the professor is talking to a girl who also had a question about the paper, you place the candy to his desk next to his book. He doesn’t see you walk out and you don’t see him when he finds it, but something is telling you he figured you out. No way a man as smart as him doesn’t realize what game you’ve been playing with him.
Sitting under the pergola on Thursday you are deep in discussion with Nat, helping her with a task sheet she has to turn in after lunch but she completely forgot about it. As the two of you are trying to do the seemingly endless sheet, you don’t even notice the professor walking from Building C, as always, but he spots you.
“No, I don’t think that’s even a thing, you can’t write that,” you tell Nat, but she shakes her head.
“I don’t care if it’s a thing, I just want to fill in the whole thing so the teacher doesn’t think I finished it in twenty minutes before class,” she mumbles, scribbling down her answer as you just chuckle at her.
Suddenly, you see a pair of dusty Vans appear in your sight and as your eyes move up, you are facing none other than Professor Styles, standing right in front of you, holding out his hand with his hand turned upwards, a cheeky smile tugging on his lips. His appearance takes you by surprise and for a moment you just dumbly stare down at his palm, then up at his eyes.
“Very smart. Pulling a pavlovian on me with my favorite candy,” he speaks up, dropping his hand as he cocks his head to the side. Nat looks up from her sheet with wide eyes as you stare at the professor with blushing cheeks.
“I have no idea what you are talking about, professor,” you tell him with a knowing smirk.
“Of course. You know, it took me a moment to realize yesterday, but I wanted to let you know that… I think it was clever.”
“If I knew anything about what you’re talking about… I would say thank you. But I stand up for my innocence.”
“Surely,” he chuckles softy. “Have a great rest of your week,” he then nods before turning around to walk away, but you quickly reach into your bag and grab a candy.
“Professor Styles!” you call out and he turns back just in time to catch the candy you throw in his way. He glances at it in his palm before his eyes snap up to you again, smirking at you shortly before he disappears in the building.
“Okay, call me stupid, but I could feel the sexual tension between the two of you,” Nat says as soon as the professor is out of sight.
“Don’t be silly, it was just… a joke and he liked it.”
“He called you clever, Y/N!”
“No, he called my trick clever.”
“But you came up with it so you’re clever too. Say whatever you want, but I actually think you have a shot at him.”
“I definitely don’t,” you laugh shaking your head and you genuinely believe it. Nat scoffs before she gets back to her sheet, but not without having one last thought about the situation.
“We’ll be laughing at how you brainwashed him into liking you when you’ll be dating for years, living together and all that shit.”
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You’ve made some very questionable choices in your dating life prior. Like when you dated a boy in high school and let him take your virginity at the back of his mom’s minivan just to break up with your right after that, or when you briefly dated the guy you met at the mall, but it later turned out he was gay and he used you as his cover up in front of his family. But the worst decision of all was dating an egoistic forty years old loser who just freshly got divorced and went after you at some tacky bar you were at with your friends.
The time you spent dating Victor is way less than the time he has been bothering you, trying to make you go back to him when you’ve actually told him you don’t want anything to do with him anymore. You broke up with him just before you went home for the summer and he didn’t take it well, even drove up to your hometown and showed up at your parents’ house drunk, begging for you to take him back. He never stood a chance, not after that one time he slapped you across the face during a fight the two of you had. You tolerate a lot of things but not violence and you don’t believe him when he says it was just a onetime thing. There’s no guarantee he won’t hit you ever again and you are definitely not waiting around to see if he told you the truth.
On this particular late October evening you are searching through your whole room looking for a book you know you have, but can’t seem to find anywhere. It’s your holy bible about research methodology and you need it for your thesis work, but it seems like the small apartment has completely swallowed it.
“Didn’t you leave it at Victor’s? You were working on that long essay when you were dating him, saw you use the book all the time,” Eden tells you when you ask her if she’s seen it anywhere and then it clicks.
She is right, now you remember leaving the book at his once and you completely forgot to pick it up after things got nasty between the two of you.
“Damn it,” you growl in annoyance.
Not feeling like calling him, you send him a quick text, hoping he still has it and hasn’t burned it after one of your fights.
Y/N: Hey, I think I left my research methodology book at yours. You still have it?
Victor: I do.
Y/N: Cool, can I drop by to pick it up?
Victor: I’m leaving for work, you can come to the bar if you want it.
You sigh in defeat. Victor is a bartender at a place that’s all the way across town, takes almost an entire hour to get there, but you are left with no other choice.
Y/N: Okay, I’ll see you there.
The raining has finally stopped this morning so you feel better leaving the house than you would have if it was still pouring. You take the bus and travel across town, feeling anxious to see Victor again. Last time you met him he cursed you out and threw his phone at you, barely missing your head. You promised yourself you wouldn’t go near him again after that, but it seems like you can never get completely rid of him.
Students rarely come to this part of the town, it’s way too far from campus and has nothing to offer that can’t be found closer to the dormitories or the school’s buildings. It’s not entirely your scene either, the bars around here are liked by older generations, not by people your age, this is another reason why you don’t like coming around here.
The bar where Victor works is a place where they have different local bands perform every Friday and Saturday. It’s not a tacky nook with creepy dudes, they actually have prices on the higher end, not something you can necessarily afford with your part time job’s paycheck from the small accounting office near your apartment where you work as an assistant on your free afternoons.
Walking into the place you immediately spot Victor behind the bar and you take a deep breath before you walk up to him.
“Hey,” you call out for him, taking one of the stools along the bar.
“Hey. Long time no see.”
“Happens when you break up with someone,” you respond with a little spice and he frowns at your words. “Can you give me the book?”
“I’ll have a break in ten, can you wait for that or you have something extra urgent shit to do, as always?” You can tell he is still bitter from how things ended between the two of you, but you’ve learned not to care about it. His way of dealing with the breakup is not your responsibility, no matter how hard he is trying to prove it wrong.
You roll your eyes but nod, knowing well there’s no use to fight him. Ten minutes is not the end of the world. Busying yourself on your phone, you try to stay unnoticed and luckily, Victor can’t keep chatting with you, because customers keep coming up to him and ordering drinks. When he finally has his break he tells you to follow him to the back.
“So how have you been?” he asks as you walk down the hallway that leads to the small break room, there’s an office at the end and some kind of changing room you guess for the bands, along with a storage.
“Fine.”
“You really gonna be a bitter bitch and not talk to me?” he asks you, giving you a disgusted look, but you know it’s just the anger talking from him.
“Victor, I didn’t come here to talk, I just need my book!”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t answer my question.”
“I answered it! I’ve been fine, now give me the damn book!” you growl, losing your patience with him, but he is seemingly in the same shoes.
“When will you stop being a bitch and just drop this ridiculous act, Y/N? I’ve been after you for months yet you keep ignoring me!”
“Did it ever occur to you that I’m ignoring you because I don’t want anything to do with you? Victor, it’s been months, just… move the fuck on! Go cry to your ex-wife or something, I don’t care!”
You didn’t mean to snap, but he always brings the worst out of you. From the corner of your eyes you can see movement at the other end of the hallway where the changing room is, but you don’t get to pay much attention to it, because the next moment Victor grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him.
“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! You ungrateful slut, I swear…”
There’s little you can do, he is twice as big as you are, his grip on your arm so strong there’s no doubt it will leave a mark. Your heart is racing as you try to pull yourself out of his hold, but he doesn’t even bat an eye at your attempt.
However, before he could drag you into the empty breakroom to do god knows what, he is stopped by a voice.
“Hey! Let her go!”
If you weren’t shocked enough at his violent reaction, now you are definitely think you’re going nuts, because it’s none other than Professor Styles who is now nearing you with a hard expression on his face, two other guys following right behind him and though none of them are bigger than Victor, he knows he can’t just start a fight with three men.
Your chest is heaving when the professor finally reaches you and Victor’s hold lets go of you, making you fall back a little.
“You perform here twice and think you’re some kind of rockstar?” Victor spats at the professor, but you’re a little lost in what’s really going on. Professor Styles gently grabs your wrist and pulls you behind him, eyes never leaving Victor’s burning gaze.
“You alright?” one of the other two men asks and you nod, not finding your voice to actually speak.
“Get the hell out of my sight before I call the police on you,” the professor answers in a calm yet threatening voice
Victor takes a second to himself, thinking about the choices he has before he turns around and disappears in the breakroom, slamming the door behind him, leaving you in complete shock about what just happened.
Professor Styles then turns around, his eyes soften at seeing how shaken you are and quite frankly, you feel like you are in a bad and quite weird dream.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks, clearly worried about you and you just shake your head no.
“I-I’m fine, I think,” you mumble out of breath.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” the guy who asked if you’re alright suggests and you nod in agreement, following them kind of blindly, the three of them keeping you in their little circle as you walk out to the bar and they don’t stop until you are out of the place in the cold night air. You slowly come back to reality and process that Professor Styles just saved you out of fucking nowhere from your abusive asshole ex. That’s what you call a plot twist.
You finally take a moment to look at the other two guys, they both look the same age as the professor, or maybe a little older, both of them are rocking some facial hair, the one that asked you seems a little more open while the other one quite reserved but friendly looking.
“What… What were you doing back there?” you ask, turning to face the professor. He clearly seems upset, but you’re not sure if it’s entirely because of what happened with Victor back then or because you are standing outside some random bar on a Saturday night, definitely crossing his personal boundaries he keeps so high at school.
“We played here tonight, was just about to leave when I saw you.”
“You have a band?” you ask, shocked at the detail.
“A pretty good one,” the talkative guy chuckles. “I’m Adam, nice to meet you. This is Mitch.”
You shake hands with them introducing yourself as well.
“Y/N is… my student,” the professor adds as if he is clearing the air for his bandmates, a kind of warning for them.
From the direction of the parking lot two women emerge, laughing on something as they walk up to the four of you, both of them eyeing you curiously.
“Hey boys, who is this pretty girl?”
“Sarah, Charlotte, this is Y/N, she is my student. Y/N, these are my other band mates, Sarah and Charlotte,” the professor introduces you as you shake hands with them quickly.
“I-I’m sorry I interrupted your time with your friends, professor,” you shyly apologize, feeling like a complete intruder all of a sudden with all his bandmates around you.
“Interrupt? Sweetheart, that dude was about to do some unforgivable things to you, don’t apologize for needing help,” Adam snorts. “You’re lucky we were there.”
“What? What happened?” Sarah asks in confusion.
“Just… my asshole ex got a little too violent when I didn’t want to chit-chat with him,” you admit with a defeated sigh.
“Oh shit, but are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” you smile faintly, though you still can feel his grip on your upper arm. “I, um… I better get going, I guess. Thank you for… the saving,” you say, a little lost about what should be said in this situation.
“You’re leaving? We were just about to go to a much better place, why don’t you come with us, forget about your ex a little?” Charlotte offers and you catch the professor’s panicked look for a split second.
“I, um… I don’t think I should, but thank you.”
“Why shouldn’t you?” Sarah questions.
“Because I know how Professor Styles hates to mingle with students outside of lectures and I don’t want to cross any lines,” you truthfully admit. The professor furrows his eyebrows.
“I don’t hate mingling with students,” he states.
“Well, you are surely not the most reachable professor on campus,” you chuckle lightly. “But it’s fine, I understand it. So I’ll just head home.”
“Come on, Harry. Let her tag along for just one drink!” Sarah begs and seemingly everyone would be happy to have you join for a little. The professor’s eyes meet yours, as if he is contemplating whether he should say yes or let you go home. When he finally speaks up you’re more surprised than when you realized it was him saving you from Victor.
“I guess you could use a drink after what happened in there,” he says, the tiniest smirk showing on his lips as your eyes shoot up.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, come on,” he nods and your little group heads down the street.
Turns out the place they were heading to was just two corners down, so they left all their stuff at the minivan at the parking lot for the time being. You slide into an empty booth, Adam and Mitch go to get the first round, so it’s just the three of you girls and the professor.
“So you’re in one of Harry’s lectures?” Charlotte asks with a warm smile.
“Yeah, for the second time, actually. Had him in first year, now it’s my fifth semester and I had no doubt I have to take his class if I have the chance.” You pay a glance at him, but he is staring at his hands on his lap, you can’t tell if it’s because he is uncomfortable with you there or if it’s something else.
“It’s so funny, because we’ve heard that he is known to be a good teacher but we never actually heard it from one of his students,” Sarah chuckles. “What’s he like?”
“Sarah, you enjoy talking about me when I’m very much present?” he scoffs, giving her a look, but she just shrugs innocently.
“Come on, I bet even you’re curious about what your students think of you. Now is your time to find it out!”
“I think Professor Styles knows very well that he is one of the best, if not the actual best,” you truthfully say and see him raise his eyebrows a little.
“What makes him so good?” Charlotte questions.
You glance at him again, as a way of asking for permission if you can answer. You definitely don’t want to make him even more uncomfortable by talking about him when he is right next to you. He looks into your eyes, and his expression tells you that he wants to hear your answer as well, but he quickly adds:
“You don’t have to answer, Y/N.”
“It’s not a secret,” you admit it with a smile. “Professor Styles’ lectures always leave you with a question to think about until next week, he is great at getting into your head without you even noticing. He explains the most complicated things in so simple ways, it should be taught,” you say with a soft chuckle. “I think his enormous knowledge about many different fields in science and just life in general is amusing, anyone can learn something from him, it’s guaranteed.”
“Wow, where is this academic genius side of yours when you’re around us, or we only get to see the dad joke version of you?” Sarah teases him and you can’t push down a laugh, imagining him cracking dad jokes feels so alien but still kind of fitting for him.
“That’s what you get when you’re a nosy little thing,” he retorts with a small smirk. He then turns to you, and as Sarah and Charlotte are laughing on something, he lowly tells you: “You can call me Harry outside of school. Feels weird that you call me professor when my friends are around.”
“You sure?”
He nods and you spot a small smile on his lips. He must be getting used to the feel of you being there, but you still don’t want to push his limits too much.
“Can I ask you something?” he questions, leaning back in his seat.
“Of course.”
“If your ex is this aggressive, why were you there with him?”
His question is surprising, you didn’t think he would ask you something personal, but you guess it’s a valid question after he just saved you from Victor.
“I wanted to get a book back that I left at his place. Didn’t even get to the point where he could have given it back,” you mumble under your breath.
“What book?”
“Just this… research methodology book, wanted it back for my thesis work, but I guess I’ll have to buy a new one,” you huff bitterly.
“Is it the one written by William Scott?”
“Y-Yeah, it is. You know it?” you ask, but then realize it’s a bit of a dumb question. He probably knows every academically important book you will ever come across.
“I actually have it myself,” he nods. Just then, Mitch and Adam return with the drinks and you thank them for the beer, already reaching for your money to pay, but Adam shakes his head.
“It’s on me, don’t worry.”
You watch as Mitch sits beside Sarah, curling an arm around her shoulders and though you couldn’t have guessed that they are a couple, seeing them like this it actually makes sense, they look cute together.
You take a sip from your beer, trying to join the conversation Sarah and Charlotte are having, when your attention is pulled back by Harry.
“I can… lend you the book, if you want.”
“Oh, you don’t have to. I’ll just get a new one.”
“No, really. I think I even have two copies, I can give one to you.”
“I couldn’t ask you that, prof—I mean Harry.”
“You’re not asking,” he smiles at you softly. “I probably won’t need both, so why not put the extra into use?”
“Okay, but I’ll pay for it,” you insist, but Harry shakes his head.
“No need, one of them was a gift so I didn’t pay for it either.”
“Well… if you’re sure about it, I would love to have that extra copy, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“So Y/N, what do you study exactly?” Adam questions, pulling you out of your little discussion with Harry.
“I’m majoring in anthropology, but I’ve been taking some psychology classes on the side just because I’m interested in the topics.”
“And what is Harry teaching you?”
“Had him for intro Sociology lecture first year, now I’m in his Methodology of Cultural Anthropology class.”
“All these subjects with their GY endings, I don’t know how you two put up with science on this level,” Sarah huffs in amusement.
“The names sometimes sound fancier than the subject itself,” you tell her smiling.
“But I bet you need to be quite smart to study these stuff on this level you are at.”
“Oh, it’s just a bachelorette degree, I wouldn’t say I’m that smart,” you chuckle shyly.
“She is totally toning it down,” Harry speaks up, catching everyone’s attention. “I know students tend to take my into Sociology class for just some extra credits so I always give them two options for the semester. They can either write a two pages long review of any article related to the topics talked about at lecture and get their strong C with the bare minimum, or actually participate and do a research of their own and turn in an at least seven pages long essay about their chosen topic. Y/N turned in an eleven pages long paper on the history of death sentences in the U.S. in the last fifty years and how society is thinking about it nowadays. It was easily one of the best works I’ve ever read and it was just an intro class.”
“You remember my essay?” you ask in complete shock.
“Of course. As I said, one of the bests I’ve read,” he nods confidently.
“So you’re like… on Harry’s smart level, actually?” Sarah asks, tilting her head to the side and you can feel yourself blushing.
You’ve always been said to be the smart kid at school, but you never thought it to be true yourself. In your book, you were just doing your absolute best, soaking in whatever knowledge was thrown in your way. You never actually understood how someone could just not study for an exam or not do an assignment, because you always felt like it was your duty to do the best you can. You thought yourself to be more of a hard-working student rather than a smart one.
“She is definitely a bright one,” Harry agrees, his eyes meeting yours as a small smile appears on his lips and you think that this is the biggest compliment you’ve ever gotten. “She actually tricked me with a psychological experiment and I didn’t even realize it,” he laughs and you can’t hold your smirk back.
“What? What did you do?” Charlotte asks, dying to know how you played Harry.
“Have you heard of the Pavlovian response?” you ask looking around and you can tell it rings a bell for all of them.
“The one with the dogs and the bell?” Mitch asks and you nod.
“Wait you did that on Harry?” Adam laughs with wide eyes and you just nod with a sly smile.
“I just offered him strawberry flavored candies every time I saw him. Took me six weeks to build up the response but he actually started expecting it whenever he saw me,” you tell them chuckling to yourself.
“And I only realized it when she stopped with the candy and I felt this massive feeling that something was missing,” Harry adds shaking his head with a soft laugh.
“Okay, that’s hilarious,” Sarah snorts clapping her hands together. “Y/N, I adore you, you’re brilliant!”
“It was just… an experiment,” you shrug shyly.
The night carries much faster than you realize. One drink turns into three and before you could realize, it’s already past midnight. Eden texts you, asking where you are since you said you’d just get the book and go home right away, but it’s been hours.
Y/N: Don’t freak out, but I’m at a bar with Prof. Styles and his friends. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow!
Eden: HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME NOT TO FREAK OUT AFTER READING THIS???!?!
Y/N: Lol, chill. Nothing extra is happening.
Eden: It’s already extra that you’re out with him.
Realizing how late it is, you decide you better get going, since it’s a long way back home. When you tell the little group that you’re about to head out, they all agree that it’s time to part ways and leave, so you all slowly make your way back to the parking lot.
“Do you know where the bus stop is back?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, trying to spot where you should be heading.
“You want to go home by bus at this time?” Harry asks.
“Well, I surely won’t pay for a ride, I live almost an hour away from here.”
“An hour?” he frowns. “I’ll take you home, come on,” he tells you, heading towards the minivan.
“What? No need. The bus is fine,” you protest, but he shakes his head.
“You are not taking the bus at this hour, not under my watch,” he simply states and you raise your eyebrows at him.
“Didn’t realize I was under your watch,” you tease him and it seems like your comment caught him off-guard. “Don’t piss your pants, I was just joking,” you tell him, and thought for a second you feel like you are being way too comfortable around him, his smile quickly smashes your doubts.
Sarah, Mitch and Charlotte all take an Uber since they live near each other and Adam is picked up by his wife, so when everyone is off to their own way, you and Harry get in the van and head to your place.
“How long have you had the band?” you ask, in need to break the silence that’s been weighing down on the two of you. “If you don’t mind me asking,” you add quickly when you see him.
“About four years. Used to have another one, but we parted ways.”
“And what do you do in the band?”
“I, uhh… Well I mostly sing but I also play the guitar.”
“You know, I’m not that surprised you can sing,” you chuckle to yourself sinking further down in your seat.
“How come?”
“You have a voice that’s great to listen to at lectures, makes sense that you can sing as well.”
You take a moment to look at his hand that’s gripping the steering wheel, he is the kind that drives with one hand on the wheel, the other one on the shifting gear. He makes it look so easy as he steers the wheel whenever he is turning a corner while his other one easily moves around the shifting gear, his tattoos are peeking from under his rolled up shirt sleeve. He catches you staring and you feel a blush burning on your cheeks as you turn your head to the other side. Maybe you shouldn’t have drunk that third beer…
“Am I really seen that rigid by the students?” he speaks up after a while and you turn back to face him.
“What do you mean?”
“You said I’m known about not mingling with students.”
“Well, you don’t mingle, do you? But it doesn’t mean you come off as rigid. More like… closed-off. Private.”
“I know I should be a little friendlier, but I just…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself, I think everyone gets it why you’re like that.”
“Do they?” he arches an eyebrow.
“Well, you’re obviously a ladies’ favorite, but it doesn’t sit well with you being a person of some sort of power. It’s clear that you don’t want anyone to get the wrong picture about you. I’ve seen how bluntly girls are flirting with you, some of them are quite scandalous if you ask me,” you huff to yourself. “I totally get it that you don’t want even just a rumor to spread about you.”
“Didn’t think I was that obvious,” he admits, running his tongue over his lips.
“Don’t worry about it, you’re still a highly fancied professor, in all means,” you tell him with a warm smile.
“Does this mean you also fancy me?” he suddenly questions and your lips part at his words. He quickly realizes how ambiguous he just sounded. “I mean, am I one of your favorites? Where do I stand in your chart of professors?”
You can’t tell for sure because of the lack of lighting, but you could have sworn there’s a light blush on his cheeks as he corrects himself. Because of this, you don’t know for sure if he really meant it academically. Either way, the answer is the same.
“You’re my favorite,” you confidently state and your eyes meet for a moment before he turns back to face the road.
The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, you keep giving him directions to your place until you finally arrive a little before one am.
“Well, thank you for the ride,” you smile at him, grabbing the door handle.
“See you on Monday,” he nods shortly and watches as you get out of the can.
“Yeah, see you, professor,” you smirk before shutting the door and walking up the stairs and disappearing in your building.
“Was that Professor Styles in the fucking minivan?!” Nat throws the question at you the moment you open the front door.
“Jesus, why are you still up?” you sigh, shutting the door and shimmying yourself out of your coat.
“Because we were waiting for you!” Eden rolls her eyes. “So, care to tell us what the fuck just happened?” The three of you get comfortable on the couch and you give them a quick rundown of your evening from meeting Victor through being saved by Harry right to him offering to drive you home and they listen to you with wide eyes in complete shock that you just spent your entire evening with the most handsome professor on campus who also happens to be the most private as well.
“If I didn’t see him sitting in that van with my own eyes I would straight up think you’re lying, but I saw his tattooed hand over the windshield,” Nat gasps, processing the story.
“I know, I still feel like it didn’t happen, but it did.”
“And what is he like around his friends? What are his friends like?” Eden questions, hugging her knees to her chest.
“He is pretty much just like in lecture, just jokes a little more and he has a looser vocab. His friends are hilarious, I really got along with Sarah.”
“I know you still think it won’t happen, but I actually think you have a shot at him, Y/N,” Eden points it out and you just chuckle.
“Why, because he saved me from my douche ex?”
“No, because he let you stay for the night with him and his friends. This is literally the first ever time a student hung out with him.”
“It’s not that big of a deal, Harry is a reserved and private person—“
“Harry?!” they gasp at the same time.
“You are now just casually calling him Harry?” Nat asks with ogling eyes.
“Well, yes, he asked me to, because it felt weird that I was calling him Professor Styles with his friends around.”
“Okay, I’m giving it… let’s say, he seems to be moving pretty slow, but y’all will be fucking in about six months,” Nat bluntly tells you and it makes you laugh.
“Oh, sure, whatever. I’m gonna shower and head to bed, you two don’t get too crazy with your fairytales,” you wave at them before disappearing in the bathroom.
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The rest of the weekend goes by uneventfully, outside of the pathetic attempt from Victor to get you to talk to him, but you’ve had enough of him for a life so you finally block his number and hope you won’t ever see him again.
Both you and Eden oversleep on Monday morning, skipping your early morning lecture and already being late for Harry’s class as well, so you barely make it to Harry’s class in time, just sprinting up the rows, flopping down to your usual seats when Harry starts the lecture. It all goes as usual as if nothing really happened during the weekend, Harry doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. Glancing over at his desk you spot the book he promised you and you can’t hold your smile back. Still grinning, your eyes accidentally meet with his gaze and he stops for a heartbeat as if he is questioning why you are so smiley, but you just shake your head and he carries on before anyone could suspect a thing.
“I gotta run, my favorite TA is having his office hours now and I have a few questions for him. See you at home?” Eden asks once the lecture is over and you are getting ready to leave.
“Sure, have a good day!” you call after her and she sings a ‘you too!’ before running out of the room.
You pack up and head down between the rows, Harry spotting you right away and you go up to him without him even asking you to.
“Hey, sorry we were a little late to class this morning,” you tell him and he just shakes his head kindly.
“No worries. How… is your arm?” He furrows his eyebrows, his gaze wandering down to your forearm where Victor grabbed you on Saturday.
“Oh, it’s fine. I just have a little bruise,” you shrug, because it really isn’t that big deal, but you can tell Harry is still outraged by what happened.
“M’sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. Would be worse if you weren’t there,” you smile at him kindly and he nods to himself before turning to his desk.
“I, uhh, I brought the book we talked about,” he shyly says grabbing it from the desk. As people are exiting the room you can feel the glares on yourself, most of them are probably trying to figure out why Harry is talking to you for so long, but you don’t pay much attention to them as you take the book he hands you.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for it?”
“No need, keep it, it’s yours,” he shakes his head with a small smile.
“Thank you then.” You slide the book into your bag before looking back up at him. “Well, I’ll see you on Wednesday, professor,” you smile warmly before heading out.
“See you!” he calls after you before you close the door behind you.
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The week carries on as usual, you are working on papers that needs to be turned in before the fall break so you spend some extra time at the library, using every bit of free time you have so you finish everything on time.
Things go back to kind of normal with Harry, he greets you in the mornings when you walk into the lecture hall and other than the warm smile he occasionally gives you, nothing has changed.
Friday however brings a surprise, but not from Harry. You’re sitting at work in the afternoon, typing away on your computer, filling in some sheets when you get a notification on your phone from Instagram.
Sarah Jones is now following you!
You tap on her profile but see that it’s private so without a second thought you request following. Luckily, she approves you only a few seconds later and you gain access to her posts, quite a few of them featuring Harry on them.
Photos of birthdays, weekend getaways, band practices and performances, Harry makes a lot of appearances on her feed and you find yourself scrolling all the way down until you reach the first few posts from 2016. Just as you are about to leave her profile you get a message from her.
Sarah: Hey Y/N! Charlotte and I’ve been talking about you recently, loved having you with us last Saturday! Want to grab a drink with the two of us this weekend?
Y/N: Would love to, but I’m not sure Harry would like the idea…
Sarah: He won’t be there and besides, who is he to tell you who you can and can’t hang out with?
She is right. You enjoyed spending time with them as well and Harry has little to no word in if you want to meet up with his friends or not. This invitation has no connection to him being your professor.
Y/N: Alright, I’m down!
 This is how your friendship with Sarah and Charlotte starts. You meet up with them on Saturday and have an amazing time, they are definitely fun people to spend time with and though at first you feel hesitant to get closer to them, you soon forget about your doubts and just enjoy your time with them.
Your little girls night goes so well that they invite you out for dinner on Wednesday with Mitch joining the little trio. You learn that he is a quiet but hilarious guy, he and Sarah make a great couple, you think.
“We have a gig this Saturday at Green Light, want to come?” Charlotte asks at the end of the dinner.
“Okay, I really don’t think Harry would be a fan of that idea,” you point out, feeling like it’s surely over the lines. He still doesn’t know about you meeting some of his friends without him and you’re not sure how he would react if he did.
“Harry can fuck off, not everything is about him. We are inviting you as our friends, he just happens to be in the band as well,” Sarah rolls her eyes, clearly not as bothered by the situation as you are.
“I just don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”
“He is a big boy, he’ll get himself over it, don’t worry. So, are you coming?”
“I guess, alright,” you nod with a soft chuckle.
 Next week you contemplate telling Harry that Sarah invited you out for their gig, but at last you decide against it, something is telling you he would try to talk you down and now you’re pretty hyped to see them perform. So you keep quiet and just brace yourself for the worst when Saturday comes.
You don’t overdress for the occasion, decide to wear some light washed mom jeans and a simple sweater tucked into it, a casual look for a night out.
Even when you’re on your way to the place you are having second guesses whether it’s a good idea or not, but you tell yourself it’s not that big of a deal and if Harry flips, you’ll just tell him you came for Sarah and Charlotte.
As you get off the bus and walk towards the place, you immediately spot the little group of three next to Harry’s minivan, Sarah waving in your way as you become visible in the streetlights.
“There she is!” she beams happily and you just chuckle at her.
Harry is standing with his back facing your way but seeing Sarah’s reaction he turns around and you swear for a moment you think he is about to faint when he spots you.
“Hey everyone,” you smile as Sarah pulls you into a hug and Charlotte does the same.
“Hey, if it isn’t our little trouble seeker!” Adam teases you and you just roll your eyes at him before shyly glancing at Harry who is standing on your left, awfully quiet and deep in his thoughts since your arrival. He feels your eyes on him and his gaze meets yours and just by one look you can tell he is pissed.
Just as you thought.
The group chats a little longer outside before Adam suggests they head inside and get ready for their start and you are just about to follow them, but Harry keeps you back.
“Y/N, can we have a word?”
Staying back you nod, hiding your hands in your coat’s pockets as you look at him, lips curled into your mouth.
“What are you doing here?” he questions, eyebrows knitted together and he looks so damn intimidating, the neon lights from the front of the building tinting part of his face green, but you think red would suit him better with this look.
“I… came to see the band playing, what do you mean?”
“Is this your sneaky way of trying to come after me? Because I thought we had a very clear discussion about my thoughts regarding situations like this and you seemed to understand it.”
He comes off way angrier than you think he should be. Yes, it might be uncomfortable for him to see you here, but the tone he just hit is way too harsh for your liking and professor or not, you are not letting anyone talk to you like that when it’s completely not relevant.
“Okay, calm down. First of all, I was invited here.”
“By who?” he spats.
“Sarah and Charlotte, we met last weekend and had dinner this week as well. Had a great time and they asked me to come tonight as well, so get off of your high horse, I’m not here for you.” You can see the change on his face as the information sinks in and he realizes he accused you wrongly, but you’re not quite done with him. “But if I was here to see you, why does that bother you so much? You can’t avoid meeting students every minute when you’re off-campus. If I came here because of you, it shouldn’t affect you this much if you weren’t worried about something else than me just being here,” you point out and he furrows his eyebrows at you. “If I didn’t know better I would think you’re afraid to be around me because you actually like me, huh!” you tell him with an innocent yet suggesting look. His eyes widen and the confidence in himself quickly vanishes from him, replaced by anxiety and nervous looks as he realizes the meaning behind your words.
“I-I, that’s not—I’m not—“
“Take a breath before you pass out, Harry,” you sigh, dropping the hard act. “I didn’t come here for you and if you want to know I actually thought a lot about canceling because of you. But I genuinely like spending time with Sarah and Charlotte so I’m here as their friend.”
Harry stares back at you, completely defeated, regret filling his green eyes. You feel a little guilty for snapping so hard at him, after all you do understand his point of view, but you genuinely don’t think it’s as big of a deal as he makes it to be.
“I-I’m…”
“It’s fine, okay? Let’s just… move past it, alright?” you suggest and he nods as the two of you head inside, joining the rest of the group.
You stay behind while they are waiting for their time to perform, keeping some distance from Harry so he can’t accuse you again, but you occasionally look his way, catching him already looking at you, but you just can’t tell what could be possibly going on in his head. When it’s time for them to go on stage, you go out to the actual bar area and sit by the counter, not too much at the front but close enough to see everything that happens on the stage.
When they start playing you can’t take your eyes off Harry. His energy behind the microphone just knocks you off the stool and you watch him completely mesmerized as if he has put a spell on you. It feels like he turns into an entirely different person on stage, nothing like the man you see at lectures every Monday and Wednesday. He sings perfectly on key, putting some extra charm into the songs with his little additional tunes whenever he is not singing a line.
But what makes it absolutely impossible to look away from him is because he keeps staring at you, eyes locking with yours for way too long every time he catches your gaze. You try to ignore it, but it’s quite hard when his eyes are basically burning into you, it leaves you breathless.
Once the concert is over you order yourself two tequila shots quickly, because something is telling you that you’ll need the boosting if you want to face Harry after his little performance.
But for your surprise, when you join the band again and get near him, nothing really happens. It seems like Harry has come to peace with your presence in his little group of friends and he actually treats you like you’re part of the circle.
The six of you occupy a table at the back of the bar to spend there the rest of the evening and it’s all good, it seems. A harmless night out with a bunch of friends, nothing extra. Harry actually strikes up conversations with you involved and you feel like you’ve overcome a banter finally.
“Do you need a ride home?” Harry asks at the end of the night when everyone is about to head home.
“Only if it’s fine by you.”
“Wouldn’t offer it if it wasn’t,” he smiles shortly before the two of you say goodbye to the rest of the group and head to his van that was previously loaded with their stuff.
The ride back to your place is now much shorter, it takes less than ten minutes to arrive and you are just about to say goodbye when he speaks up.
“I want to apologize for the way I reacted to your arrival earlier tonight. It was… unnecessary.”
“It’s fine, I’m sorry for what I said after that too.”
“You shouldn’t be,” he shakes his head, staring down at his hands in his lap.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you shouldn’t be sorry for saying something that’s true.”
It feels like all air is knocked out of you as his words process and you stare at him with parted lips and raised eyebrows. When he finally looks up at you, he looks so lost and tortured, you feel the urge to hug him, but you stay still as he continues talking.
“I got mad because I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very… confusing for me. And this is why I’m gonna be very straightforward with you now. I can tell Sarah and Charlotte like you a lot and they are stubborn, they won’t see the situation from my point of view and I’m no one to tell you if you can hang out with us or not. But what I can most certainly tell you is that nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N. You are very much welcomed to spend more time with us, but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”
For a couple of moments you’re only able to stare back at him, blinking completely frozen at his sudden confession. You could tell tonight has been a turning point of some kind, but you were not expecting this speech from him at all and now you are at a complete loss of words. It takes some time before you actually find your voice.
“Okay,” is all you can breathe out, nothing more, but it’s pretty much all you have to tell him. You won’t go against his will and force him to do something he doesn’t want. He deserves the respect.
He nods shortly, seemingly still very torn about the situation and you figure it’s better if you just leave now.
“Thank you for the ride,” you quietly tell him opening the door. “Good night.”
“Good night, Y/N,” you hear him before you shut the door and walk into your building, feeling like you’ve been just hit by a pile of bricks.
Unlike the last time when Harry brought you home, Nat and Eden are not waiting for you in the living room. Nat is probably already asleep and Eden went out for a date earlier and she hasn’t been back. You don’t bother to turn the lights on as you walk inside, just kick your boots off and hang your coat before collapsing onto the couch, just staring into the darkness, Harry’s words repeating in your head again and again.
“… I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very confusing for me.”
“… nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N.”
“… but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”
Harry, your professor, The Harry Styles admitted that he likes you but also told you pretty forward that nothing is ever going to happen between the two of you. It still feels like a fever dream and you’re not sure how you are feeling about it just yet. Hanging out with him was already quite overwhelming, but you were not expecting this confession from him at all.
What are you supposed to do with this information? If he is so set on not taking any further steps, why did he even share it with you? He could have just easily keep his thoughts and feelings to himself and get away with it without you ever figuring it out. It doesn’t make sense.
For the first time in your life, something Harry Styles said doesn’t make sense. That’s new.
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Following Harry’s confession you truly have no idea what to do, so you just go with the flow. He seemingly stays the same when it comes to you, friendly, but still keeping his distance. Nothing changes in the lecture hall, he just occasionally asks if you’re alright and you are guessing he only wants to know if you are having any trouble with Victor, but you haven’t even heard from him since you’ve blocked his number and you hope it’s going to stay like that.
You meet up with him and the band a few times outside of school and it’s not necessarily awkward, but you can tell he is keeping his distance from you, he never sits next to you or has one-on-one conversations with you, only if it’s necessary. The only time he dares to be alone with you is when he sometimes offers you to drive you home. You usually say no at first, but he insists, so you end up sitting in silence in the car until you arrive home, say goodbye and end of story.
No one in school even suspects that you’ve made your way into Harry’s group of friends, only Nat and Eden knows about it but they swore to keep it a secret, but you didn’t tell them about Harry’s confession. Whatever it is that’s happening between you and Harry, you would never put him into a situation he is trying to avoid so badly. You sit in his classes like everyone else, but while all the other girls are drooling over him, trying to get just slightly closer to him in any way possible, you sit in silence and think about the precious times when you get to see him outside of school.
Even with him being so distant towards you, you can’t help but slowly start falling for him. He doesn’t have to talk to you or be direct to you, it’s enough that you see him as himself, you see him with his friends, how he acts whenever he is not teaching, standing on the podium. And he is an amazing person, there’s no doubt about that.
The semester is gradually moving forward, once you get back from fall break, you basically move into the library, studying for your exams and finishing up all your papers. December arrives pretty fast and before you realize, the whole town is decorated with lights and Christmas trees everywhere, the shops are trying to lure customers in with all the sales and the Christmas shopping officially starts.
One weekend, when there’s only two weeks left of school before everyone heads home for the holidays, you and Nat go for a shopping trip, trying to buy every gift in time so you don’t have to worry about that at least last minute.
Wandering around the mall you naturally take a trip to the bookstore, always ready to buy something new to read. Nat dives into the cooking books wanting to get one for her mother while you’re just aimlessly looking through the shelves. As your eyes are running through the titles in the psychology department, you stop at one particular book, pulling it off the shelf as you can’t help but smile to yourself.
The secrets of Classical Conditioning.
You flip through the pages and though it doesn’t seem to be a groundbreaking work, it’s just explaining Pavlov’s experiment and further uses of it, you still decide to buy it.
That evening you sit at your desk, the book open in front of you, a pen next to it as you try to think of something to write into it. At first you just wanted to give it to Harry as it is, but you figured it would be a nice gesture to write a few words into it he could always read when he opens the book. After some consideration, you finally grab the pen and start writing.
-
Dear Harry,
I will always think of you whenever I hear of Mr. Ivan Petrovics Pavlov or Classical Conditioning. Thank you for another amazing semester and I’m happy I got to see you without standing on a podium. You are an amazing man, never change.
Happy holidays,
Y/N
-
Last week of school, you go to the Wednesday lecture, the last one of the semester with the book sitting in your bag. All through the 90 minutes class as Harry is having an open discussion about the lecture with the students, you keep debating whether you should give him the book or not. When the lecture is over and Harry wishes everyone happy holidays, you grab it from your bag and holding it to your chest you wait until there’s only a few people in the room. Eden has already left to hand in a paper so you walk down the rows on your own, eyes on the man behind his desk who is now packing up his papers and notes, getting ready to leave.
“Harry?” you faintly speak his name, grabbing his attention as he looks up at you from behind the desk. You glance down at the book in your hands and before you could change your mind, you place it down in front of him. “This is… for you.”
His gaze wanders down to the book, then back at you as he stares at you in awe, obviously surprised by the gesture.
“What’s this for?”
“Christmas gift?” you answer unsurely with a nervous chuckle. “I just saw it at the store and… thought of you.”
“Y/N, I can’t—“
“Yes you can and you will,” you roll your eyes at him, tired of hearing all these negations from him. He can’t, he won’t, he shouldn’t… for once, he definitely will if it’s on you. “Take it as my payment for the book you gave me.”
His eyes soften at you before he looks down at the book again, reading the title before he chuckles to himself.
“Thank you, Y/N,” he then finally says, accepting that you won’t let him return the gift under any circumstances.
“Have a nice Christmas, Harry,” you smile at him shyly, hands holding onto the strap of your bag as you start walking away.
“You too,” he faintly says and turning around you start walking, but then he stops you. “Y/N, wait!”
You stop in your track and face him curiously. He seems hesitant, stepping away from the desk, walking closer to you but still keeping some distance between the two of you.
“Do you… have plans for New Year’s Eve?”
“I, uhh—No, not yet.”
“If you happen to be back in town by then… Sarah is having this little get together. I have a feeling she already invited you, but if you said no because of me, I want you to know that it’s fine by me. Would be nice if you could come.”
He is right, Sarah did invite you over, but you kindly declined thinking Harry wouldn’t appreciate if you spent it with them. You wanted to give him a breather, have a night with his friends without having to avoid you all the time, but it seems like the situation has changed for him.
“You don’t have to invite me just because I gave you a gift, Harry.”
“It’s not about that,” he shakes his head softly. “I can tell you are getting along well with Sarah and all the others. I want you to know that I would never stand in the way and you are very much welcomed at any and all events.”
He seems and sounds genuine, you don’t see any sign of him just saying it because Sarah asked him to or something. No, this definitely came from him.
“Okay, I’ll… think about it,” you tell him with a warm smile. “See you around,” you wave at him before walking out of the room.
You don’t get to see his reaction to the words you wrote into the book and for a while, you’re not even sure he saw it. Maybe he took it home and put it on his shelf without even having a look into it, but two days later, when you’re already packing, getting ready to go home for Christmas, you get a notification that at first confuses you.
Breakfast is now following you!
You open Instagram with furrowed eyebrows as you go to the profile that just followed you. It’s a small account and private, of course and you almost close it thinking it’s just someone random when you see that it’s followed by both Sarah and Charlotte.
Could this be Harry’s profile?
The username is colazione8, it doesn’t give away much but now that you are thinking about it, it’s perfect if he wanted to stay unnoticed by his students that surely can use Instagram way better than him.
You tap on the follow request button and anxiously wait for an approval, hoping that the person behind the account is still online. You wait and wait, slowly losing hope but then the notification finally arrives. Your request has been approved.
You tap on the profile vigorously and three pictures appear in front of you. One is a picture of some random building, the first ever posted is a plate of nicely served breakfast of some sort and then there’s one that features the person you were desperately hoping to see.
It’s a picture of Harry sitting at a big dining table, a glass of wine in front of him as he is squinting his eyes towards the camera. You zoom into the picture just to make sure it’s him, but his features are clearer than daylight, it really is Harry that just followed you.
You’re still stalking his very private and not too eventful profile when you get a message from him, making your heart skip a beat.
Harry: Hey! Just wanted to thank you again for the gift, it’s really thoughtful. Read what you wrote in it… thank you, Y/N.
Y/N: I meant every word. Thank you for everything you did this semester!
It takes a few minutes for a response to arrive from him.
Harry: Are you already on your way home?
Y/N: Not yet, leaving tomorrow morning.
Harry: If I drop by your place in 20, can you come down for a sec?
Y/N: Sure!
Though your response seemed totally cool, you started panicking right away. What does this mean? Why is he coming here? Are you in trouble? You couldn’t be, you didn’t do anything wrong.
You quickly change out of your worn-out sweats and stained shirt, putting on a pair of jeans and a black hoodie, not wanting to see him looking like a total wreck. You sit on your bed, anxiously checking your phone every ten seconds to see if he has messaged you and those twenty minutes never seem to pass.
Then your phone finally chimes again.
Harry: I’m here.
Y/N: Be there in a sec.
You jump into a pair of trainers and grabbing your keys from the little sidetable you have in the hallway you storm out of the apartment, running down the stairs. As you walk out you stop in your track for a second, for some reason you were expecting the minivan, but this time, it’s a black Range Rover that’s parked in front of your building and Harry emerges from it the moment you step outside.
“Hey!” he smiles at you, shutting the door before he jogs around and you notice the little gift bag in his hands.
“Harry, is this what I think it is? Because you shouldn’t have, really,” you tell him right away as he stands in front of you, glancing down at the little bag in his hands.
“What? So you are allowed to give me a gift, but I’m not allowed to do the same?” he asks with a cheeky smile.
“But you already gave me one!”
“That wasn’t a real gift, so no,” he shakes his head, too stubborn to let it go. So instead, he nervously glances down at the little bag before handing it to you. “Here. Happy Christmas. But you can only open it when I’m gone, alright?”
“Why?”
“Just… please,” he breathes out and you not, keeping your curious hands to yourself.
“Alright. Well, thank you, Harry.”
“Sure. Um, have a great winter break and… I’ll see you around,” he smiles, walking around the car back to the side of the driving seat.
“You too, Harry. See you!”
You see him drive away as you walk back into the building, basically running up the stairs to your apartment, dying to see what’s in the little bag. Once you are locked in the safe haven of your room, you throw yourself to the bed and reach into the bag, finding a small box. One that’s usually used for jewelry. You pull it out with shaky fingers and take a deep breath before opening it.
Inside sits the cutest little silver ring you’ve literally ever seen. It’s thin and very detailed, tiny little strawberries lining next to each other and that’s the whole ring. Just the little strawberries, but it’s still the cutest you’ve ever seen. You put it on and it fits perfectly on your ring finger, holding up your hand you take a good look at how it sits on your finger. You’re in love with it.
Rolling to your back on the bed you stare up at the ceiling with a heavy heart aching for a man you know will never be yours, but you just can’t help it. The heart wants what it wants, right?
Reaching for your phone you type him a quick message
Y/N: Harry, thank you so much! It’s beautiful! But you shouldn’t have bought me anything!
Harry: I’m glad you like it :)
Y/N: I love it.
He doesn’t respond, just likes your message.
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Christmas is always the same, especially because your family just never had those juicy dramas that could ruin any family events. Holidays have always been quiet and loving, pretty predictable. It’s good to be home again and spend quality time with your loved one, though your mind keeps wandering to a particular someone.
Sarah mentioned that Harry has traveled home to his mom and sister and from time to time you catch yourself thinking about what he could be possibly doing at the moment.
The only interaction between the two of you is when you post a photo with your sister and brother at Christmas dinner and he likes the photo, but nothing more. He doesn’t post or add to his story so you are left with your own elaborate fantasies of what he could possiblybe doing at home.
Sarah convinces you to spend the New Year’s Eve at hers and you are accepting the invitation a lot easier now that Harry has told you he is fine with you joining.
Just one day before the 31st you get back to your apartment and spend the second to last night of the year spiraling about the whole situation with Harry. Where are you two standing as of right now? Was his gift a gesture with a deeper meaning behind it?
You can’t step over the fact that you are not his student anymore. He has officially graded you and you’ve received your credits for his class, the ties are off, but he situation might still be risky and you doubt Harry is willing to change his mind about what he told you earlier. He made it clear that nothing will ever happen between the two of you, however you can’t help but feel a little hopeful that the new semester might bring a change into that.
After two hours spent in front of your closet and at least three mental breakdowns you finally decide to wear a black turtleneck dress which is just the perfect mixture of modest and sexy at the same time. You feel anxious to see Harry again, not sure how to act around him following your little gift exchange. There’s a chance he’ll just shut himself off once again and avoid you all night, you can’t tell.
Sarah’s place is already buzzing by the time you arrive, several guests are lounging in the living room and kitchen, some soft music is playing and it appears that everyone is enjoying the evening so far, judging from the laughter you hear from time to time.
“I’m so glad you came!” Sarah envelopes in a tight hug when you arrive.
“Thank you for inviting me. Here, brought some snacks,” you hand her the grocery bag you picked up on your way, not wanting to arrive empty-handed.
“Oh, you are an angel, some on in, make yourself home, take whatever you want to eat or drink!” she gestures around before bringing the bag into the kitchen.
The cozy home is already filled with a lot of people you don’t know, but you also spot Charlotte and Mitch right away so you take the safe spot in their little circle. You try your best to stay present in the conversation but you keep glancing around, looking for one particular person.
And then you finally see him. Harry emerges from the little hallway that leads to the bedroom and bathroom with Adam, seemingly deep in conversation as he nurses a beer in his hand. His checkered slacks and vintage printed t-shirt makes him appear so casual, if you didn’t know him you wouldn’t even guess that he is actually a professor.
Harry laughs at something Adam just told him and his eyes glide around the room until they find you standing near the kitchen. He stops in his track, gaze running down your figure before it returns to your eyes and he seems to be in awe, like he doesn’t entirely believe it’s you he is seeing even though he knew you’d be coming. There’s nothing you want more than to run across the room and throw yourself into his arms. You spent way too much time thinking about him during Christmas and seeing him in the flesh now is a mixture of feelings you can’t really describe just now.
Neither of you leaves the conversation you are in the middle, but you keep glancing towards each other. You’re nervously moving the strawberry ring around your finger, feeling his burning gaze on your figure all the time. You haven’t taken it down since he has given it to you, it partially made it harder for you to stop thinking about him, because the jewelry was quite a loud reminder every time you glanced down at your hands.
Two drinks later your sister calls you, as always she wants to say happy new year before the lines get hectic at midnight, so you move out to the small balcony facing the street as you talk to your sister. The spicy night air feels amazing on your heated up skin, the turtleneck dress was a good choice, but it’s definitely getting hotter with each drink, especially with Harry’s lingering eyes as well. When you end the call you decide to stay outside a little longer, take a few moments to yourself.
You jump a little when you hear the sliding door open and you’re surprised to see Harry walk out.
“Hey, thought you might need this,” he smiles softly, holding a blanket in his hands.
“Oh, thank you,” you mumble and let him wrap it around your shoulders. It provides just enough heat that your lips are not shaking anymore from the cold.
“What are you doing out here alone? Not enjoying the evening?”
“I am, I was just on the phone with my sister.”
“She’s older than you, right?” he asks and you tilt your head a little looking at him.
“How do you know that?”
“I, uhh… You have a lot of pictures with her on your Instagram,” he admits with a nervous chuckle.
“Have you been stalking my profile?” you tease him, but he clearly takes it way more serious than you intended it to be.
“No, I swear it’s not like that, I just—“ he stammers but you cut him off placing a hand on his arms that are crossed over his chest.
“Harry, I was just teasing you. It’s fine,” you assure him, giving him a gentle squeeze before you are about to pull your hand back, but his hold stops you. He takes your hand in his, gently bringing it closer to his face as he examines the ring sitting on your finger.
“You’re wearing it,” he breathes out, a small cloud emitting from his pink lips as his thumb softly runs over the ring.
“Of course. I told you I love it.”
You can’t ignore the shiver that runs down your spine at the feeling of his warm palm against yours, his thumb delicately running over not just the ring, but down your finger as well before he lets go of your hand. You already miss his touch.
“So, how was Christmas?” he asks clearing his throat.
“Good, nothing extra. What about yours?”
“Same, went home to the family.”
“Do you often visit them?”
“Not as often as I would want to, but I’m trying to go every couple of months.” Harry turns towards the street, eyes running along the not too busy road that stretches past Sarah’s building. His hand comes up to the railing, fingers slightly drumming on it. “How come you didn’t bring anyone tonight?”
“Well, my roommates are still home and I also didn’t think you’d like the idea to have another student of yours around.”
“Right, yeah,” he nods, but you can tell something else is still on his mind. “So… no boyfriend to bring?”
You give him a puzzled look. Is this his way of asking if you are seeing anyone at the moment? Because if it is, it’s kind of ridiculous.
“No, not really. I guess you can say I’m not looking for one actively.”
“How come?” he asks with raised eyebrows, his body turning towards you as he leans against the railing. You give him a ‘really?’ look. You think about getting a little sassy and teasing with him, but then decide to just be straightforward instead.
“Because I’m kind of into my Methodology of Cultural Anthropology professor.”
Harry’s lips part as his eyes pierce into yours and for a moment you really think that he is about to flip, tell me how dare you say such thing to him and curse you out, but a second passes and his gaze softens as he lets out a shaky breath.
“Y/N…”
“What? I just answered your question,” you innocently shrug, looking away from him. Despite this long and weird game the two of have been playing these past months, this is the first time you openly admitted that you have a thing for him.
“You know how complicated it is and I told you that nothing can happen.” He shakes his head in defeat, a hint of disappointment in his tone, but it just grinds your gears.
“What, so you can ask about my dating life but I can’t say that I’m into you? How is that fair?”
“That’s not the same.”
“Well I think it is. Both are highly inappropriate to bring up in our situation, don’t you think? Yet you’re trying to put all the blame on me.”
“Alright, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Let’s just… forget about it. I really don’t want to fight with you.”
“Because you’re afraid I might actually win?” you sassily reply, crossing your arms on your chest.
“I’m just trying to do the right thing, okay? Would you… let me?”
“If you haven’t realized it yet, I’m trying really hard to stay in my lane, but you’re not making it any easier.”
“I’m trying too, okay?” he growls, clearly losing his calmness at this point. “I’m really fucking trying, Y/N, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!”
“You’re the one making it hard!”
“It’s not my fucking fault I can’t stop thinking about you!”
“Well it’s not my fault either!” you snap at him, both of you raising your voice, the rest of the party oblivious about the screaming match the two of you are having on the balcony. “If you’re so set on not letting anything happen, why do you come to me and act the opposite?”
“The opposite?!”
“Yes! It’s not quite appropriate to gift your student with a ring or ask them about their dating life. Or is it all new information to you?”
“You started with the gifting!”
“So what? You could have just left it there, but you didn’t. It’s not that it didn’t make me happy, but don’t try to put all the blame on me for saying something when you’re already crossing the lines.”
Harry stares at you with a hard look and you’d pay great amounts to actually read his thoughts at this moment. His jaw clenches as he exhales sharply, eyes turning away from you, as if he couldn’t even bear to look at you.
“Make up your fucking mind,” you growl under your breath as you push your way past him and walk inside before he could get a word out.
For a well-respected, educated and smart man, Harry can act pretty fucking stupid, you think. He is not being fair and you will not apologize for anything you’ve said. If he doesn’t want anything to do with you, he needs to stay in his lane and not dance on the line, poking the sleeping lion. He doesn’t get to fuck around and then put all the blame on you, that’s just not how it works and he needs to learn that.
In the last hour that’s left until midnight you mingle with the guests and try to keep your thoughts of Harry at bay, though it’s quite the challenge since he lingers around you, keeping his eyes on you all the time, as if he is trying to piss you off or something, but you’re determined to be a mature adult and keep your composure.
You’re getting tired of this game and you’re not sure anymore if you are willing to wait around until Harry makes his mind up. Not when he doesn’t keep his own rules at least.
“Come on,” you mumble to yourself as you’re trying to open up a new bottle of wine, but the screw just wouldn’t move, no matter what you do. A hand reaches forward and wraps around the neck of the bottle, interrupting your pathetic misery.
“Let me help you.”
You let Harry take the bottle, biting into your bottom lip as you turn around and watch him easily open the bottle you’ve been fighting with the past ten minutes, he grabs your empty glass from the counter and fills it.
“Thank you,” you mumble when he hands it back and you take a sip right away. He places the bottle to the counter, fingers strumming on the surface before he takes a deep breath and speaks up.
“Y/N, I’m sorry.”
“For what exactly?”
“For the way I acted. You were totally right, I called you out for things that I did myself too, that was unfair of me.” He clears his throat, leaning against the counter with his back side as he crosses his arms on his chest. It brings out how toned his arms really are and you give yourself half a second to drool over that before you take another sip from your drink, forcing yourself to keep your thoughts under control.
“Thanks for acknowledging it,” you mumble, not sure what to say exactly. The two of you stand like that in silence, eyes roaming the guests, something clearly weighing down on both of you, but it’s hard to name and address it.
You can tell he is overthinking, the gears are almost visible, turning in that smart head of his, but you don’t want him to go into depths he shouldn’t. He really is making a bigger deal out of the situation that it already is, but it’s going to wreck him.
“Okay, I want to know, what was the worst way someone tried to flirt with you?”
Harry turns to you with a puzzled look, but you just sip on your wine, waiting for his answer.
“Um, I don’t… really keep track of it.”
“Oh come on,” you give him a look. “I know you have a story. I wanna hear it!”
Your eyes meet and he is searching in yours, trying to figure out what’s the sudden change in your mood when an hour ago you were ready to throw him off the balcony. Truth is you are just frustrated, because the situation feels so impossible. You never had to deal with such an amazing man, knowing he is into you as well, but you just can’t have him. The struggle is hard for the both of you but you can’t blame him entirely. Hating on him because he is not willing to take a risk that could easily ruin his entire life but at least his academic career is just not fair and you won’t put him through that.
Harry sees where you’re coming from and he shoots you a thankful smile before it turns into a smirk as he looks down at his hands.
“Professor Davids from the department of linguistics asked me to be her date for her ex-husband’s wedding.”
“What?” you gasp with wide eyes. “For real?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “She started swinging by my office all the time, trying to chat me up and then one day she asked if I wanted to go with her, that we would be staying at this nice hotel and all… she really thought it was a good idea.”
“That’s very awkward,” you laugh, entertained by the thought that Professor Davids would go so low when it came to dating. “I assume, you declined the invitation.”
“Faster than ever,” he chuckles making you laugh even louder. “Okay, your turn.”
“What?”
“I told you an awkward story, now it’s your turn.���
“Um, the worst was probably a promposal I got.”
“A promposal?” he asks with a puzzled look, his forehead creasing as he pulls his eyebrows together.
“Yeah, when they ask you out to go to prom.” “Oh, yeah. Didn’t know it had a specific name.”
“Because you are way too British,” you tease him and he just gives you a narrow-eyed look, but you can see the smirk hiding on his lips. “Well, anyway, I was dating a guy senior year, but this other one was convinced he could win me over and take me to prom. He brought a fucking mariachi band to school and gave me a serenade in the middle of the hallway while my boyfriend was standing next to me. He asked me to prom so confidently at the end of the song, like he actually had a shot but it was so painfully awkward,” you laugh at the memory shaking your head and Harry joins, finding it quite entertaining.
“He really did that to himself.”
“He did, I felt bad a little, but what was I supposed to do?”
You slip into telling more and more awkward stories, staying in the kitchen you create a little bubble, the rest of the guests don’t seem to exist as you enjoy yourself with Harry. This is the most carefree and loosest you’ve ever seen him around you and you quite like this version of him. So easy to talk to and even funnier than his usual self.
A little before midnight Sarah runs around with champagne, filling everyone’s glass, getting ready for the countdown. You and Harry join Charlotte, Adam and his wife in the corner of the living room as everyone is slowly getting excited for the last moments of the year.
Looking around you see a lot of couples, holding hands, hugging, clearly planning to snog the moment the clock hits midnight and when you glance at Harry on your right you’re convinced he is thinking about the same thing.
You’re not naïve, you don’t think he is going to kiss you, but you still allow yourself to play with the thought just a little. He is standing so close to you, just the tiniest move and you’d be touching him, skin to skin again, feel him under your—
The thought is abruptly interrupted when you feel his warm palm wrap around your hand, your whole body freezing and for a split second you think it’s just an accident, that his touch will disappear before you could even blink, but it stays there. Harry maneuvers his fingers until they are laced together with yours and he keeps a firm hold of your hand, hanging between the two of you, staying hidden because you’re standing close to each other. Your breath catches in your throat and you’re afraid if you dare to move he’ll let go of your hand.
Another version of yourself would laugh hysterically at how worked up you are right now just because he is holding your hand, but the you that’s actually in the moment is about to burst just by this small touch. You have absolutely no idea what it means or why he chose to do it, but you don’t really care about it. You just want to absorb all the heat you feel coming from him where his palm meets yours, fingers braided together tightly, as if he is trying to keep you next to him, like he thinks you are about to disappear and it’s way of anchoring you to him, but truth is you don’t want to go anywhere.
“One minute, everyone!” Sarah sings in excitement as she turns on the TV and puts a huge clock on the screen that’s counting the seconds as well. You shyly glance to the side, finding Harry standing motionless next to you and when he notices you looking, his eyes meet yours. He looks terrified, like a lost little boy and you can’t tell if he is afraid of your reaction or because of what his actions might bring on him. But you want him to know that you are completely okay with where it’s heading.
“Ten! Nine! Eight!” The countdown begins and you inch closer to Harry so you’re pressed against his side, his body heat radiating into your skin even through the layers of clothes you two are wearing.
Harry leans down the moment you lift your head, his face is so close, it wouldn’t take much for you to finally kiss him, do the one thing you haven’t stopped thinking about for months.
“Y/N…” he breathes out and it’s a tortured plea, he is begging you to stop him from doing something he might regret, but you are dying for him to finally sin. You want him to give it up already, you have absolutely no desire to be the burden that keeps him in his lane. You need him to cross the line and stay there.
“I’m not stopping you, Harry,” you tell him quietly, the urge to close the distance between the two of you is burning inside you.
“Seven! Six! Five!” the countdown continues, but it all tones out, you can only see, hear and feel Harry.
“We can’t,” he whines, closing his eyes as he exhales shakily.
“We can, we just shouldn’t,” you correct him, his eyes snap open and meet yours again. You can tell he is so close to finally giving in and let his feelings and desires take control and you will not try to stop him.
His face inches the tiniest bit closer and his forehead is almost touching yours now, you can see every curly eyelash that frames his gorgeous green eyes that are now filled with fear and nerves.
“Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” Everyone screams together as the clock finally hits midnight while you just stare at Harry holding your breath, praying that he is finally ballsy enough to take this step.
“Harry, please,” you beg, not too proud of it, but you just can’t take it any longer. His hand is gripping yours tightly as he closes his eyes again and for a second you think that it’s gonna happen. He is going to give up the act and finally kiss you.
But right when the moment is burning the most… he pulls back and your heart sinks.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hand lets go of yours and it feels like your arm is ripped off, tears are welling in your eyes.
“Yeah, me too,” you mumble under your breath, chugging down the champagne before making your way through the living room, determined to leave as soon as possible.
“Y/N, wait, where are you going?” you hear him calling after you, but you don’t stop. You get rid of the empty champagne glass and grab your coat from the rack, storming out of the apartment as if you had somewhere to be.
Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you run down the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. You hear the other pair of feet running behind you and Harry calling after you, but it’s not stopping you.
You push the front door of the building open, but it’s heavy, so it slows you down just enough that Harry can grab your wrist when you are about to start running down the street.
“Y/N, don’t go, let me explain!”
“No!” you snap at him. “I don’t fucking want to hear your explanation! I’m done, Harry! I’m fucking done! I was trying to be patient and respectful, I didn’t want to make it worse for you and let you do your thing, but you kept dancing back and forth and I can’t keep doing this, so I guess I’m sorry too.”
You’re choking on your own words that echo from the walls, the street is almost entirely empty, the world is still celebrating the new year while you’re at your breaking point. Harry stands in front of you, defeated and panic all over his face as he listens to you.
“I will not sit around and let you play your little games any longer, because you can’t make up your mind whether you want me or not.”
“Y/N I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life!” he snaps, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s the problem! This shouldn’t be happening, but I can’t fucking stop thinking about you, I can’t stop wanting you!”
“Then do something about it!” you beg through your tears.
“I can’t!”
“Yes you can!” you scream at him. “You can but you probably just don’t want me enough to actually do it! And it’s fine, but—“
You don’t get to finish your rant because Harry firmly grabs your arm, yanks you towards him and with one swift movement, his lips are crashing against yours.
It all happens so fast but your body reacts before your mind could process what’s really happening, fists bunching a handful of his sweater as you pull him against you, his hands flying up to your face, cupping them confidently as he kisses you hard and demandingly.
It’s like a fucking dam that’s been broken, everything you both kept bottled up and under control just breaks loose and it’s a kind of a wild fight for trying to devour each other now that all lines has been crossed an blurred into nothingness.
He is the dominant one, but you do some pushing and pulling on your own as well. You’re forced to take a few steps backwards, back arching at how forcefully he is pushing forward, lips smacking against each other over and over again, his tongue meeting yours, swirling and dancing around with yours, a shameless moan escaping your mouth.
His hands roam down your sides and you jumps when they reach the back of your thighs, legs wrapping around his waist. He keeps you up easily, fingers digging into your flesh where your butt meets your thighs and this angle allows you to be completely pressed up against him and feel every single inch of his body that burns for you.
It’s beyond anything you’ve ever imagined, you’re not sure it’s because of the build-up that led to this point or simply the chemistry you two got, but it blows your mind, making you question how you could go this long without ever kissing him.
“Harry, I want you,” you moan when his lips move down to your jawline, kissing and biting on the soft skin, tasting you wherever he can reach.
“I want you too, Y/N,” he breathes out resting his forehead against yours before kissing you again.
“Take me home then.”
“Are you sure?” he pants as you run your fingers through his hair and tug on his gently, earning a whimper from his perfectly pink and swollen lips. You love this satisfied dew on his face, especially because you know it’s because of you.
“Never been more sure about anything in my life.”
You unwrap your legs from around his waist and return to the ground, but not without him leaning down to kiss you once more before he grabs your hand and starts pulling you down the street. You spot his Rover right away and start sprinting, Harry following you right behind with a carefree laugh.
Settled in your seats he starts driving, but you can’t keep yourself away from him. His hand that’s not on the steering wheel is gripping your thigh as you lean over the console and start kissing his cheek, jawline and the corner of his mouth as one of your hands runs down his chest until it reaches his pants.
“Love, if you move further down we’re gonna crash,” he warns you with a shaky breath. “I drank a little too and I’m already fucking gone from kissing you, if you touch me I’m gonna lose it.”
You giggle, pressing one last kiss to his lips before sitting back in your seat. You need every bit of your patience and self-control to stay modest on the way back to his place. Hands gripping his you bring it up to your lips, kissing his knuckles gently as he speeds down the empty streets. It’s still barely over midnight, everyone is still celebrating, oblivious to how important this moment is to the two of you.
You really thought this would be the end. When he pulled away at midnight all hope was lost for you and it broke your heart to know that he will never choose you over his better judgment.
It’s your first time at Harry’s but you don’t really care to look around as the two of you make your way inside the townhouse, lips already melted together as you stumble through the dark hallway, not wanting to let go of each other. You successfully make it into his bedroom and Harry turns on the bedside lamp while you’re already eagerly getting rid of your coat and shoes. He does the same, clothes start to litter the hardwood flooring hastily, but neither of you is thinking about them. Harry scoops you into his arms once again, kissing your lips passionately as he bunches your dress up at your hips until he can finally grip the end of it and pull it over your head.
“Oh shit!” you giggle, the turtleneck getting stuck on your head for a moment before you’re free from it.
“That big head of yours,” he chuckles kissing your forehead.
“Shut up,” you smack his chest gently, pushing him down to the bed so you can straddle him, knees on his sides as you sit on his lap, lips meeting again.
He throws his hands up when you start pulling his t-shirt up and once the fabric is off of his body, his arms wrap around you, pulling you close to his chest. Your skin meets his and it feels heavenly, only little clothing separating the two of you at this point.
Harry scoots backwards and then throws you to the mattress, getting on top of you without your lips ever parting. His hips are pushed against yours and you can feel everything through the thin material of his slacks. Without even knowing you grind your hips, your core meeting his erection in the movement and he moans uncontrollably at the sensation.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against your lips and you can’t push your smirk down at his reaction.
“Yeah, fuck me, Harry,” you tease him before your lips get occupied once again.
His hands work fast. He unclasps your bra without you even noticing, the straps falling from your shoulders before he gets rid of it, throwing it across the room as if it did something against him. When his hungry eyes fall down on your naked chest you see the same kind of torture in his eyes that was there when he was fighting with himself before.
“Harry, stop thinking,” you tell him, fingers massaging his scalp as you lace them through his hair. “It’s fine, we’re fine.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he questions again and you pull him down for a reassuring kiss.
“One hundred percent. I want this. I want you.”
“Oh God, I want you so bad,” he whines again, lips kissing down your jawline, neck and collarbone before they attack your breasts.
He cups them, licks and bites them, making you a whimpering mess underneath him every time his tongue meets your hot skin. This man will be the death of you. As he moves down your body, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and he glances up at your for reassurance once again, you nod eagerly, lifting your hips so he can easily glide the fabric down and off of your body. Harry sits up, eyes burning down on your naked body lying in front of him as he undoes his own pants, pushing them down his long legs until they join the rest on the floor. You push yourself up when his hands move to his boxers, you want to be the one to take them off. He gladly backs his hands off when you reach out and start tugging them down. He kneels on the bed as you pull the fabric down and his erection finally becomes free, making you ache for him immediately. Once the boxers are out of the way completely you want to reach out to touch him, but he stops you, hands wrapping around your wrist before they could reach him.
Your eyes snap up to meet his darkened gaze, questioning why he stopped you.
“Y/N, I… If we do this, there’s no going back,” he breathes out with a pained look. You push yourself up to your knees so you meet his height, hands cupping his cheeks as you pull him into a sweet kiss that he hesitantly but returns.
“I know what you think about us, Harry, but I assure you, that I’m completely fine with it. But if you don’t want it to happen, we can just… lie here. I’m fine with that too. Kissing you was already such a gift for me,” you smile at him, gently pecking his lips.
“I just don’t want you to wake up and regret it. I’m not pushing you, right?”
“If anyone, it’s me pushing you,” you chuckle softly, a small smile tugging on his lips as well. “You didn’t push anything on me, alright? We are both adults and it’s completely fine. We’ll figure out the rest, I just want to focus on you now. Can I do that?”
Harry nods, still looking a little unsure, but you can tell he is starting to settle in his mindset. It’s not just him that worries about the other regretting something. You know how torn up he is about anything that’s about you and though you want him more than anything, you still don’t want to push him into doing something he is not entirely comfortable with.
“Do you want this?” you softly ask, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“I do. I’m just—“
“Then it’s all good, Harry. We both want it, nothing else matters for now,” you tell him, wanting nothing else than to finally see him enjoy himself entirely. “Lay down for me,” you tell him, feeling like you taking the lead is a good idea now.
He does as you asked him to, lying down on the mattress, head sinking into his pillow as he blinks up at you, watching you swing a leg over him before settling to sit on his thighs.
“Can I touch you?” you ask, wanting to make sure he feels completely comfortable with you. Pleasing him is your number one priority right now. He nods, lips parting as he watches your hand reach out and wrap around the base of his erected length. He whimpers under your touch, his eyes fall closed when you gently pump him a few times, his cock fits so well in your palms, like pieces of a puzzle.
Leaning down you kiss his fern tattoos on each sides of his hips before placing one to his leaking tip, sliding your hands to the base before you slowly and gradually take him into your mouth.
You’re not planning to make him cum with your mouth, but you’ve been dying to taste him and it’s just as good as you imagined. The way his body reacts to your touch, the noises that leave his kissable lips, this man is completely out of this world and you want to explore every inch of his body.
You bob your head a couple of times, just enough to wet his length and work him up for what’s coming next. When you let him go of your mouth and you move a little up on his body so that his cock can be lined up with your hole, you look at him to see if he is still down to continue. One hand holding his cock, the other one flat on his naked chest, you ask him a question with your eyes that he answers with his hands squeezing your hips.
“I have the implant. Do you want to put on a condom?” you ask him at last.
“I trust you,” he breathes out. “Do you want me to put one on?”
“I want to feel you,” you tell him shaking your head.
“Okay,” he nods so it’s settled.
Leaning down you peck his lips one last time before you push the head inside and then slowly ease yourself down on his throbbing length.
“Oh fuck!”
“Harry, oh my God!” you both moan at the sensation of him finally entering you. You’ve had your fair share of sexual intercourses throughout your life, but none of them felt this good. None of them pleasured you this good so fast and easily, just the feel of him being inside you is making you lose your mind.  
You start off slow, wanting to feel him just right, get used to his size, but as soon as you feel more comfortable, you pick up a faster pace. His fingers are digging into your flesh at your hips as he holds onto you for dear life, panting and moaning at your motions. He glides in and out of you perfectly, setting your senses on fire practically.
“Harry, you feel so good,” you gasp, getting lost in the feeling. Sex has always been a good experience for you, but with Harry it’s a whole different story. As if he just opened a completely new world you never even knew about before.
“Yeah? You’re gonna cum for me?”
“Yes! Oh fuck!”
Harry pushes himself up, an arm coming around your back as he easily flips the two of you over, your back gently hitting the soft mattress. He holds himself up above you, lips crashing with yours as he starts to do the work this time, thrusting in and out of you, his hips smacking against yours forcefully as you both nearing the end.
“You’re making me lose my fucking mind, Y/N,” he cries out, head falling to the crook of your neck and you wrap your arms around him as a shield, holding him tight against you.
It doesn’t take long after that. He is hitting just the right spots, making you moan his name over and over again as your orgasm slowly devours you and washes over your whole body while he is still relentlessly moving.
“Harry! Oh… Fuck!” you gasp, legs and hands shaking and you clench your muscles around him, throwing him over the edge with you. He falls out of his rhythm, his cock twitching inside you as he moans against the hot skin of your neck, coming undone in your arms.
Nothing has ever felt this intense and mind-blowing and you’re now sure you’re addicted to him, there’s no turning back, not that you want that.
He collapses on top of you, still inside you, his body weighing down on you heavily, but it feels just fine. You run your arms up and down his sides, kissing the side of his head as you are both trying to catch your breath. It takes a few minutes for him to come back to reality with you, he lifts his head and moves to the side so he is not crushing you anymore, but an arm remains thrown over your abdomen. His vibrant green eyes are shining like never before when they meet your tired gaze and cupping his face in your palm you pull him in for a slow kiss where you finally have the time to actually taste him without the rushing of your own needs and urges.
“How are you feeling?” you softly asking, knowing well how major this was for him. You wouldn’t want him to spiral and start to self-destruct because of what just happened.
“I’m feeling fine,” he murmurs lowly, his fingers dancing on your naked side. “Just still a little torn if I did the right thing.”
“You worry too much. We did nothing wrong.”
“Not sure everyone would agree with that.”
“Fuck everyone else,” you chuckle and a smile tugs on his lips as well. “I will not feel bad for having the best sex of my life with a hot as fuck man I’m really into,” you bluntly tell him, earning a smug grin.
“Best sex of your life, huh?”
“Not even ashamed to admit,” you nod into the pillow. “How… was it for you?” you shyly ask, afraid his answer might disappoint you. But Harry pulls you closer until you’re pressed up against his chest, his lips capture yours, kissing you fiercely, making your heart skip a few beats for sure.
“Fucking amazing, baby. Probably the best I ever had too,” he admits, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you nuzzle against his chest once he has rolled to his back.
Silence comes over the two of you, you’re listening to his steady heartbeat, mindlessly drawing patterns over his chest. Lifting your head your eyes meet his and you can tell he has been thinking hard about what this all means for the future now.
“I’m in,” you simply tell him.
“Huh?”
“If you are thinking that I might not want to do this with you, that I just wanted a good fuck, that’s not what I think of this. If you want to give us a chance, I’m totally in.”
“You think we can make it work?” he quietly asks, his voice barely more than just a whisper.
“Of course,” you smile at him warmly. “You don’t?”
“I do, I’m just… there are so many things that can go wrong.”
“Then… we’ll make them right.”
Harry breathes out through his nose, clearly having a hard time to take it as easy as you do and you wish you could magically make all his doubts go away.
Sitting up you put your hands on each of his sides, looking down at him determined to bring out his confidence in the two of you.
“We just have to be patient and careful until I finish. Then we are basically free. That’s just one more semester. It could be way worse, we can make it work for a couple of months before we can finally do whatever we want. That doesn’t sound that bad, does it?” Harry shakes his head, reaching up he tugs your hair behind your ear before running his fingers down the side of your face.
“So we are really doing this?” he breathes out, a small smile on his sweet, pink lips.
“Well, I’m surely not giving up on this, we came a long way to be here,” you chuckle. “Question is, are you gonna give up on us? On… me?”
“Hell no,” he chuckles softly as he shakes his head. You smile down at him and leaning down you peck his lips tenderly.
“Then… we really are doing this.”
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SEQUEL: 🌊 AN OCEAN AWAY 🌊
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mountswhore · 9 months ago
Note
sorry! little one prompt 44 for mason please🤍🤍🤍
𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 — mason mount
summary: the hardest thing about your pregnancy was not the cravings, the kicks in the ribs, but choosing a name.
notes: requests are closed!
44. Choosing little one’s name together.
After finding out you were pregnant, you were over the moon. Mason would finally get to be a daddy, and see you mother his children. It was a dream come true for you both. And you could just about stand the morning sickness, being unable to hold absolutely anything down, and the occasional wave of nausea.
Months into your pregnancy, and you’d finally hit the hardest part of all. A name. You’d found out you were having a beautiful baby girl, Mason cocky for the rest of that day as he’d guessed correctly. It hadn’t hit him until he got into bed that night, smoothing over your bump, that it was real. His baby girl was growing right now, and soon enough, she’d be out into the world and Mason would be watching her grow up. You held him that night as he cried, grateful for you and this chance.
“How about Zendaya?”
“You want to name our daughter after your celebrity crush?” You questioned, giving your boyfriend a strange look as you parked at the Chelsea training grounds.
“She’s your celebrity crush too,” Mason deflected, swiping a few hair strands from your face, “and I don’t want our daughter to share a name with anyone else.”
“She’ll share a name with Zendaya.”
“I mean like in her class, idiot.” Mason replied, grabbing his bag from the back seat and rushing round to open your car door, even though you were in the drivers seat.
It was one of the rare days that players could have family members watch and visit, and Mason thought it’d be perfect for your daughter to spend some time around the voices she’d hear constantly growing up. And her Uncle Ben was missing her.
Mason’s hand never left yours, guiding you to the stands, greeting familiar faces on your way. Finally, after sitting down and assuring Mason you were fine, you were chatting with a few people and watching Mason train. It wasn’t long until the team were coming over for a break, talking to their loved ones.
“Y/N!” Ben exclaimed, sitting beside you in the stands and squeezing you tightly. His hand fell onto your bump, Mason pressing light kisses to your head as Ben babbled away to your stomach. He’d do it constantly, no matter where you were, claiming ‘it would be good for her to know her favourite uncle by his voice.’
“Have you thought anymore about names?” Ben asked, looking up at the pair of you. You shook your head, Mason dropping down to the other side of you.
“He suggested Zendaya in the car,” you sighed, Ben rolling his eyes at his friend’s antics, “the other day, he tried convincing me that Tinker Bell was a good name.”
“I’ll give it a good think.” Ben whispered to you, giggling as he quickly jolted away from Mason’s fist that was coming to collide with his arm.
You found yourself at home, later that week, legs over Mason’s lap as you watched TV. “What about Love?”
“Naming her after a serial killer?” You gasped, kicking his thigh and chuckling. The audacity of your boyfriend would make you laugh sometimes. “You can’t think normally, can you?”
“Come on, you think of some then.” Mason argued, shuffling closer to you and resting his hands on your bump, kissing it in quick succession, “we might have to let you name yourself at this rate.”
“Don’t be silly,” you mumbled, “we’ll find a pretty name for her.”
It was usual for Mason to spring a random name onto you, you no longer questioned it. It even happened when you were visiting his family last week, staying for your usually scheduled roast.
“Chelsea?” Mason yelled from the kitchen, and you knew that he was asking you about another name.
“No.” You replied, receiving weird looks from his family, “he’s been shouting names out for the past few months, we’re still arguing over it.” You mentioned to them all, Summer sitting on your thigh and making her dolls kiss your stomach.
“Still no luck?”
“No,” you laughed, Mason re-entering the room with his tea and sitting beside you, his arm around you once again, “not with names like Chelsea, and what was it?” You looked at Mason, hoping to remember the name he suggested as you loaded supermarket bags into the car yesterday.
“Decla.”
Mason’s mum laughed, knowing exactly who was behind that one.
You struggled for months to find a name for your daughter, often waking up in the middle of the night to find Mason 120 pages deep into a baby name book. His dedication was unmatched.
It wasn’t until you were actually in labour, to hear a good one. As you were resting in the hospital bed, clutching your stomach as you’d been told you weren’t fully dilated, you’d heard a family walk past to see the woman in the bed beside you.
“Say hi to Auntie Callie,” the pregnant woman cooed to the newborn in her arms, handing them to Auntie Callie. Your head snapped to face Mason, and his to yours, his hand sliding over your bump, as some sort of silent agreement for the name. It was cute.
Not long after, Mason was holding Callie in his arms. His Callie. One hand was clutching yours, keeping you close to him, and his eyes poured into the newborn in his arms. The past hour was a blur, pushing, hearing your yells, his hand feeling like it was going to snap in half, it was forgotten as he looked at his daughter for the first time.
“Our Callie,” he whimpered to you, looking up at your exhausted face, you just weakly smiled at your boyfriend, hand leaving his and sliding through his hair.
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finestoflines · a year ago
Text
“Harry’s stylist, right?”
Summary: Harry and his personal stylist are great collaborators, on screen and off. She helps his visions come to life and in turn they’ve become close friends. As she helps him to bring his fashion dreams come to life during the Fine Line era, will some other dreams come to life as well?
or
Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump
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this fit is very important to this part lmaooo - I literally have no idea what to call this lol, anyway I've been sitting on this for forever and I wanted to get something out for yall and i love this story there will be a part 2 when i get to a writing mood. I love this story bc its my literal dream - anyway!! pls enjoy and reblog and lmk what you think :)
Word Count: 14k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, tame for now, should be smut eventually - aka slow burn (what else would you expect from me at this point i guess)
part 2
-
“Hey, H, I just had a question about one of the SNL outfits? Do you have a sec?”
Harry looked up from his phone and raised his brows at his stylist, Y/N.
Y/N had worked with Harry previously. In photoshoots for Another Man magazine and his most recent Gucci campaign. As well as some other random times, such as one-off award show looks and specific appearances. However, this past summer Harry had hired Y/N to work fulltime for him, exclusively. He had told her that he was planning on releasing his second album in the winter and he wanted someone there to help him plan his clothes for music videos, award season, interview appearances, as well as tour outfits.
Y/N stood just inside the doorway of the room, leaning her back against the wall, looking expectantly at him. Her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed. She was dressed simply in a white satin skirt and a matching cropped button-up, they both had cream flowers embroidered on, paired with horsebit slim Gucci mules. Her style was eclectic, but she had definitely noticed an increase of Gucci in her wardrobe since starting her employment with Harry.
Y/N’s passion in life was fashion and clothes and she constantly worried that one of Harry’s outfits wouldn’t deliver as much as she wanted it to. He was quick to tell her not to worry so much though, as long as they both were happy with it, how could anyone else not love it. Plus, he’d always add, it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought. But as more and more events began to crop up, Y/N’s worry over her work grew. She had only been the head stylist for Harry on projects that were still underwraps - except for Lights Up which had been released a couple weeks ago now.
The first project she ever worked on with Harry as his full-time personal stylist was the Lights Up music video. She had never worked so closely with one person for so long on just one project. Harry was insistent in vision and came in the first day filled with ideas, what he imagined for the video's concept and how he wanted to incorporate clothes. She had been happy to make his dreams become reality.
The two of them spent hours at his house for weeks, pouring over every detail of every outfit he planned to wear. They both wanted it to be perfect. And eventually, it all came together, exactly how they had planned. All of the garments for the video took up two entire garment racks. Y/N had made Harry pose in every single outfit for polaroids that she dated and then put into a lookbook she started for him. She had told him she planned to document every outfit she styled for him and Harry had been so excited. The outfits he wore in the video were received with praise when it was finally released, and Harry and Y/N were overjoyed. There was already a party for its release, but they both were especially happy that night. Throughout the evening, Harry and Y/N would gravitate to one another and fall into side conversations about the outfits and what people had been saying. Even if Harry said it didn’t matter, he and Y/N both knew, at the end of the day, they loved when people were happy with their work.  
“Sure,” he bounced to his feet, but Y/N made a hand motion telling him that he could stay seated. He settled back down as she crossed over and sat beside him on his couch.
She was at his house in London today planning his next few appearances that were promotion for the upcoming album, Saturday Night Live was next. Harry had been taking a break from their work until she had come in.
It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to be at his house, they had been working together for months now. First, it had been for his outfits in his music videos that were filmed in late summer and early fall, like Lights up, but also a few other ones. Now, it was clothing for promo appearances, interviews, and listening parties. Next, it would be tour outfits, which she had already started planning, but officially, they hadn’t started discussions yet. Harry had helped her to get a flat closer to his house in London just for her to be able to head over and help with the planning or fitting of his outfits more easily. She also was constantly traveling with him to his appearances, making sure outfits were perfect right before whatever show it was or making last minute adjustments in case either of them decided something wasn’t right.
While Harry was a big guy, his waist was far trimmer than a usual man built to his size, this meant she had to take in a lot of his trousers at the waist. As well, with his shirts and coats, she’d have to take them in or out depending on how Harry wanted the fit to be - either perfectly tight or perfectly oversized. He was particular, but she appreciated his drive for fashion and how he cared for his appearance. Before performances, she often had to take things in or out based on any body fluctuation that had occurred since the initial fitting.
She was looking at her sketchpad that held all of her notes on his clothes - which was different from the lookbook of polaroids - including patches of the actual colors and little Harry figures dressed in what he was going to wear. Right now, she had the pad opened to a page titled “SNL Opener - November 16, 2019”.
“So I was thinking with your opening monologue outfit, it might look better to have a different colored blazer? A matching yellow would be great, but if you did more of a toned down - maybe light tan or beige - blazer with gold embellishments, you’d elevate it to look sophisticated and stylish, rather than just stylish. It’d be exactly like the runway look - which I know you sometimes don’t like, but I think it’s what looks best.”
She ran her finger between two swatches of what she thought would be the better blazer color and the one Harry had originally wanted. He wet his lips and gazed at the page as he thought about what she said. Normally, she liked monochrome on him, but she thought the deep blue underneath a completely yellow suit might wash him out on the stage.
“Yeah,” he pointed to the top beige swatch, “I think I do like this better.” He paused and turned his head to Y/N, looking in her eyes before asking, “Is that all?”
“Er...no,” Y/N ran a hand over her unstyled hair, slightly fluffed by her constant musing of it. She often fiddled with it while she worked, better than biting nails she always said when confronted about her tick. After a sigh Y/N continued, “I was just on the phone with Jane from Gucci and she said that for Look 57 they could only send your technical size, for some reason they can’t custom make it. Meaning, I’ll have to tailor the whole thing to you when it arrives. Is that alright? Or do you want to choose something else?”
She flipped to a page that said “SNL WS.” Harry followed her hands and nodded realizing she was talking about the Gucci suit he wanted to wear for Watermelon Sugar. It was a watermelon’s inside red. When he had found out the suit came in that color, he had danced around the dining table for what Y/N had felt like was an hour, humming the tune of Watermelon Sugar excitedly. Finally, she had coaxed him to sit back down and get back to their other work, which was still picking out clothes.
“No, that’s fine,” Harry shook his head and used his thumb to scratch under his lips absentmindedly, “It really needs to be that color.”
She nodded, she knew what his answer was going to be, but she also knew he still liked to make the final decision.
“Alright, we’ll just have to meet for longer when everything arrives, to tailor that one. Then the rest of them should just be making sure the fit is perfect.”
She rose up from her seat and patted Harry’s shoulder, leaving him to his thoughts, as she went back to finish up the calls with Jane and the designers.
He caught her hand in his before she completely walked away, “Thank you, Y/N.” He was so grateful he had hired someone who was as driven as he was and understood his fashion sense and wanted to help enhance what he was thinking, rather than someone trying to control him or just going along with whatever he said. Neither would be productive or helpful, thankfully Y/N loved her job and cared to do things right.
She grinned before exiting, “H, you’re going to be this century’s style icon if it’s the last thing I do.” He laughed as she walked out of the room, leaning back on the couch to continue his lurking on Instagram.
-
One week later
“I’m here, H! I come bearing Gucci and more!” Y/N said as she shuffled through Harry’s front door, she held a deconstructed rack and a garment bag filled with heavy suits and things. Inside were Harry’s four most important outfits for SNL, some other garments for SNL, and some clothes they had talked about for his upcoming listening sessions later in the month. Y/N needed to check the fit on all of them and begin tailoring the Watermelon Sugar suit. The key Harry had given to Y/N, previously, had let her in, but she assumed he was home. He said he’d be.
When Y/N rounded the corner she found another empty room. Confused, she set down her large items and went to search for Harry. Y/N literally needed him to be here for this part. It was the only real time she actually needed to see him in person - but that was beside the point.
“H?”
She wandered through the different rooms of his home. Normally, Y/N didn’t go into the other rooms, she was always mainly in his lounge area, the dining room, and a little casual office room he had - sometimes the kitchen for water, his bedroom once. Still not finding him, she decided to venture to the furthest door, Harry’s bedroom, she remembered.
Harry groaned at the sound of a knock on his door, he rolled over in his bed. After a few moments of hearing nothing else than his groan, Y/N felt like she had to go in and check on him.
“H, it’s 12:30 and we agreed we’d meet at noon. Are you feeling alright?”
Y/N moved into the room and found a shirtless Harry surrounded by rumpled sheets, clutching at a pillow. He groaned into his pillow again in response. Her legs bent at the edge of the bed and she reached out to smooth some of his chestnut hair out of his face, “What’s wrong?”
He moved his head to allow his eyes to look at her, “‘M so tired, don’t know why. My stomach kind of hurts too…” Y/N looked at him quizzically, before running her hand over his tan forehead once more, this time checking for a fever. “You don’t have a fever. When did you go to sleep? Have you eaten anything today?” With her help, Harry moved into a seated position, head tilted back against the bedpost. He sat silent for a moment before blowing air out of his mouth. “Went to sleep kind of late for me, I guess...Haven’t eaten.”
“Ok, you’re just tired from staying up late, you old man, and you might be a little dehydrated and hungry. Listen, I’ll go make you some food if you get up and prepare yourself for the day. We need to get all your clothes fitted so that I can fix anything before next week.” Y/N was always good at getting Harry back on track when he got distracted - or even out of the station, when he wasn’t in the mood to work on something. She slid from her perch on the bed and walked to almost the edge of the room before Harry called her back.
“Can you pick out my clothes for me?” His soft, tired voice whined. “So hard...and you’ve got the best eye. Pleaseeee,” he pleaded softly.
Rolling her eyes, Y/N sighed and made her way back into his room. Crossing to the door that led to his walk-in closet, she set to work. As silly as he was being, she could never pass up on a chance to pick out an outfit for Harry.
“You’re literally going to be changing the entire time, H, you could have just thrown on sweats,” she called back to him once inside the smaller room. He repeated how she always picked the right thing, even for just around the house. Again, Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry, but she also couldn’t hide the warm smile on her face that was due to his compliment.
She couldn’t believe how dramatic Harry could be sometimes. Right now, he was a lesser form of hungover and he was acting like his life was ending. Y/N had made a note a while ago to never agree to a meeting on the day after any partying. She learned the hard way one particularly terrible Sunday. She had come round his house at a similar time, noon-ish and found Harry dead asleep, backwards in his bed. When she had roused him, his only responses were grumbles and groans. She had to not only pick out his clothes, but also help dress him. Then, after providing water and aspirin, she moved all their work into his bedroom so they could work from there. Harry had proved to be a baby when it came to hangovers.  But, she hadn’t realized he could get like this even without being truly hungover.
After settling on his live aid t-shirt, that Y/N was eternally jealous of, located at the front of his drawer and his favorite corduroy trousers, she walked out and threw them in the direction of his toned, but slumped body. “I will not get you boxers, that is most definitely not in my job description, Boss.” Y/N sent a pointed look in his direction, moving to finally leave the room. While he was technically her boss as her employer, their work relationship was extremely collaborative and it never felt like he was in control of her, she just liked to give him shit for being a drama queen.
“Guess I’ll be going commando. How’s that going to work with me changing in front of you a bunch of times?” He teased right back, taking the clothes you had thrown at him and giving them a onceover. His teasing signalled that he was already feeling better.
Y/N shook her head and walked out of the room, “For the love of God, Harry, please put on underwear before you come out and continuously strip in front of me!”
The words he shouted after that were muffled, but they were something along the lines of how the human body is beautiful and shouldn’t be covered up. Unbelievable. As she set to work on making both of them some lunch, she finally heard Harry begin moving around. They had a lot of work to do as it was and whenever Harry was in a mood, whether it be a good mood or a bad mood, they always seemed to have a hard time focusing.
One night, that could be seen as the poster child for Harry and Y/N’s procrastination, was during the planning for the Adore You music video. Harry was in a super good mood that day and he had brought that energy to their meeting at his house. Y/N was supposed to be fitting him for the various outfits, but Harry, in his mania, ordered an overzealous amount of Chinese food. It took her and Harry hours to even make a dent in the food. And while they passed the time with eating, Harry and Y/N got further and further from their tasks, opting for conversations that included more fun topics than work. They had gossipped about some of the other people they worked with, Harry had begged for “the tea” about some of his other staffers and Y/N was happy to oblige. As much as Y/N would hate to admit it, she loved when they got off of work subjects and talked about how their day’s had been and what has been on their nerves lately. It was a nice way to decompress, it was like hanging out with a friend, except it wasn’t, not really.
Harry shuffled into the kitchen wearing what Y/N had picked out for him. Her smile grew knowing that he hadn’t changed what she’d picked. His confidence in her and her abilities never failed to feel like the biggest compliment.
“Go sit at the dining table, I’ve made us some little sandwiches and then we can decide the order we want to go through the outfits in.”
Before following Y/N’s orders, Harry continued his shuffling around, first to the cabinet for a glass, then to the fridge for water. At the end of the table, she set the plates between the head of the table’s spot and the one to its left. Harry took the side spot, so Y/N was on the end. After a bite of his food, Harry moaned loudly in contentment. This caused an amused look on Y/N’s face, there had been nothing special in his house so she had just made what was possible. This meant that Harry’s satisfaction was a little over the top.
“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in a week. What did you do last night that got you in such a twist?” Y/N asked as she took a sip of her own glass of water. Harry nibbled at his lower lip after swallowing, trying to understand why he was particularly tired today.
“I guess I forgot to eat properly yesterday and then I went out running. And I stayed up late on the phone with,” he paused, eyes flashing to Y/N and then away again, “someone for SNL.”
Y/N hummed at his words before going back to her own eating. She didn’t understand why he hesitated about telling her he’d been on the phone last night, it especially irked her that he wouldn’t even say with whom. Professionally, it wasn’t really her business, but Harry was never secretive with her. Plus, it seemed to be work related so why was he being so flighty about it.
Moving forward, Harry peppier from eating and simply moving around, the pair set to work. They decided on trying on everything else first and then saving the Watermelon Sugar suit to the end. The other three main pieces for the night fit perfectly, Y/N had to only do minor reworks of certain areas.
“H, I need you to hold still…” Y/N interrupted Harry’s ramblings as she was crouched beside him.
She had to take up the hem on the pant legs so right now she was trying to pin them in the place she and Harry had agreed upon, without messing with the pleats.
“Sorry,” He mumbled, straightening out his back to stand taller.
He stayed quiet for a bit until Y/N popped back up, she looked at her notebook for reference on what she still had to tailor.
“Okay, next, the pants crotch is looking pretty fitted, so I assume you want it taken down a bit,” Y/N said as she got back into her crouching position. “Look in the mirror and tell me where you think letting it out looks best, I don’t have the best vantage point when I’m up this close…” she trailed off, placing her measuring tape directly on top of Harry’s crotch and running it down his leg a ways.
Once done with her first attempt at where she thought was best to let the pants out, she turned her eyes to the mirror that showed Harry in his suit with Y/N on her knees before him. Harry cleared his throat as he looked in the mirror, seeing Y/N with her eyes wide in anticipation in the position she was in made him want to run and hide. Her hands were extremely close to his dick, but it was literally her job, he knew he had to shake the thoughts that were running through his mind.
“Maybe just a bit further up actually, as much as I like the high waist with dropped crotch, I want this suit to have that specifically tailored look,” his hands motioned for Y/N to bring the drop up a ways.
Her hands then brought the measuring tape up, once again grazing over his area. Again, Y/N looked at Harry through the mirror for approval, and this time he gave it and she placed a single pin in the place where the pants would be let out to.
Standing up, Y/N hoped Harry didn’t notice the blush gracing her face. She was a stylist and used to being around naked bodies as well as touching around a man’s crotch when working. But Harry in this suit must have been magic, because she had felt extremely vulnerable on her knees in front of him in it. She had felt flushed the minute he hadn’t liked what she had done initially and she hated that she felt that way for some reason. Beginning to work on the sleeves of the suit set her at ease, Y/N was thankful to no longer be kneeling or in such close proximity to what was under Harry’s pants.
“Anything on your mind of late?” Harry broke the silence.
Y/N hummed with a pin stuck between her lips, folding up the suit jacket’s right sleeve. Plucking it from her mouth after a few silent moments, she said, “Not really, haven’t had time to do much else lately. Always thinking about you,” Y/N flushed as she realized what she had just said. “I mean, thinking about you like about your clothes and when they’re going to arrive and what I need to do about them, not you personally, sorry that came out wrong,” her blush intensified as she rapidly fumbled through her last sentence.
“Ow!”
“Oh my god!”
While Y/N had gotten flustered with her words, she managed to stick the pin she was using straight into Harry’s flesh. She immediately removed the pin from where it had stuck him.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry, H, we’ve got to get this off. I need to make sure you’re not bleeding onto the suit.”
Y/N rushed around to Harry's backside and began slipping off his suit jacket as Harry chuckled and began to unbutton the shirt as carefully as possible.
“‘S alright, Y/N, if there’s any blood on the shirt it’ll blend in, blood is practically the same color.” She glared at him through the mirror and Harry continued to laugh, “That is not funny, H, I shouldn’t have stuck you in the first place.”
“No, no,” Harry hushed Y/N as she began to slip off his shirt from one side to the other, taking off the sleeve on the side she hadn’t poked, “you’ve got so much on your plate with all the planning for the upcoming events. Then you worked yourself up over a little slip.” As Y/N carefully unbuttoned the cuff of the sleeve to try and slip off the shirt with the least amount of blood on it as possible, Harry finished with, “I wouldn’t mind if you were just thinking about me, though, an’ not the clothes.”
This time, Y/N was very in control, not willing to let herself slip up a second time today. She didn’t know how to respond to what Harry had just admitted. It wasn’t like this hasn't happened before. Both of them were guilty of making little comments that made it sound like they were interested in each other in a way that was a little different than professional or friendly. But every time the other person always had the responsibility to shut the idea down or completely blow past what their counter had just said.
“Harry…” She began, it was soft and pleading, like she was saying she couldn’t entertain that idea. Examining his forearm, after pulling the shirt completely away and resting it on a nearby chair, she saw a little spot of blood protruding from the pin prick she had caused. “Where do you keep your bandages?” Y/N decided that it was best to brush past Harry’s words this time and went off to find his first aid kit. Harry stood there, shirtless, staring at the blood on his arm. It really wasn’t a lot and it wouldn’t have done anything to the suit, but Y/N was always so careful and never wanted to ruin any of Harry’s clothes.
On her return, Y/N came upon a shirtless Harry perched on the edge of the table, with one arm crossed and his other - that was bleeding - being held slightly away from his body, as if Harry was afraid to touch it. His posture was slumped so Y/N could see his spine curving beneath his tanned honey-soft skin and his shoulder blades slightly flexed. While most of Harry’s body was covered in tattoos, she noticed how the closest tattoo to his back was the small line drawing of a guitar on the back of his left shoulder. Other than that his smooth back was bare. Y/N found it interesting that Harry had never chosen to ink his back. She jogged lightly back into the room and Harry’s head turned to watch her approach. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he regarded her. She noticed he was being particularly quiet, but she had no idea why. Maybe he was still tired.
Y/N set to work on finding the correct tissue, neosporin, and bandage for Harry’s small wound. As she worked on fixing up her mistake, Harry’s eyes followed her movements. Green eyes flickering between her hands on his arm and her own eyes focusing on her task.
“After this, I actually can just head home and finish the rest of the work,” Y/N said as she unpackaged the bandage, “I already know where I need to take in the suit sleeves and the shirt’s sleeves were looking fine. So, I can get out of your hair and you can get to sleep early tonight.” She placed the nude toned bandage over Harry’s arm, she was a little sad to find he didn’t own fun bandages. That was something that she expected from Harry, but she resigned that maybe she didn’t know everything about Harry.
Before Harry could speak, Y/N continued, “Don’t rehearsals for the show start tomorrow? When are you flying to New York?” She ran her hand over the bandage, smoothing it in place. Her hand lingered there as her eyes looked up and met Harry’s. Harry twitched his arm away from Y/N’s touch and scratched his nose slightly.
“Yeah, I’m flying out tomorrow morning. When are you set to fly out?”
“Friday. I’ll get in before the final dress rehearsal and then I’ll be there for the show.” Y/N stepped back and began to rehang the suit jacket and shirt that they had discarded in her haste to not get blood on them.
Then Y/N stood there staring at Harry. He looked at her slightly confused by her doing nothing when she said she was leaving. “Pants, H.” She said finally when she realized he had forgotten he was still wearing the suit pants. “Oh! Sorry,” Harry exclaimed as he began to unbutton and remove the pants he was wearing. He handed her the pants and she exchanged them with his live-aid t shirt. He took it graciously before slipping it on and disguising his toned body beneath it. Then he took his pants from earlier and fully redressed himself.
“Damn!” Y/N said and Harry’s head flipped to watch her as she began to put all of the clothing back in their garment bags and take down the rack.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just pinched myself with the rack, I’m all left feet today.”
“Here,” Harry chuckled as he walked over to help Y/N, “let me help you with all this. Just in the boot of your car, yeah?” Y/N nodded and smiled in appreciation for Harry. He grabbed her keys laying on the table and then took the rack and a garment bag. Even if things sometimes got tense between them, for whatever reason, he was always quick to move past it and be thoughtful and kind in the best ways for Y/N. After shaking her hand out, she grabbed the last garment bags and followed Harry out to her car. Harry shut the back of her car softly and turned to face Y/N, she stood beside her car door, ever so slightly leaning against it. He walked to her side and smiled.
“I’ll see you in a week,” he said before wrapping his arms around Y/N’s much smaller frame. His body was radiating heat and it felt good against Y/N in the crisp night air of London. She pressed into his hold and wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him hard. “Less than...Can’t wait to see you make an absolute fool of yourself out there.” Harry protested her tease with a small, “Hey!” but mostly focused on his hands on her back and the way her hair felt especially soft under his chin. Finally, Y/N pulled away, “Kidding! You’ll be amazing and you’ll look killer while doing it.” She winked before opening her car door and driving off. Harry was left with the lingering scent of her perfume and shampoo mingling in his nose.
-
It was the Saturday night, November 16th, 2019.
Harry and Y/N were in his dressing room before the show started. His outfits for the night were lined up, except for his opener one that Y/N had just dressed him in. His first change would be for Light’s Up, then a couple skit outfits that had to be moved elsewhere for quick changes, then the Watermelon Sugar suit, and then finally his end of the show casual look. The opener looked incredible, it’s fit was impeccable and Y/N knew people were going to love it.
She stepped back from Harry to give his whole body a once over, the SNL hairstylist had just blown out his hair and given him a sort of middle part. It definitely looked good and paired with the suit - Y/N could already tell it was going to be a hit by all accounts. Harry grinned back at her, doing a little dance to show just how much he was loving his clothes and how excited he was.
Grabbing the lint roller, Y/N gave the lapels of his suit jacket a once over and then moved it slightly out of the way to roll the big collar of Harry’s shirt and the bits of the body of the shirt that were showing underneath the jacket. Basically, Y/N was lint rolling over Harry’s clothed abs. Apparently, that was a ticklish area for Harry because he began to squirm and giggle under the tool’s touch.
“Seriously, H?”
She smiled as she said it, so excited for Harry that she couldn’t be mad at his relestness.
“Can’t help it. ‘M so giddy. Plus, I’m a wee bit ticklish.”
Y/N gave him a single laugh before removing the lint roller and smoothing over the shirt against his stomach and then over the lapels when she put the jacket back in place. She adjusted the Gucci reader’s she was wearing today, that were more for decoration than anything, but she liked to pretend they made her see better.
“You look smashing, Mr. Styles. Absolutely gorgeous, if I do say so myself.”
“Are you talking to me or the suit?” Harry asked as he flipped to look in the full length mirror in the dressing room.
“Can’t it be both?”
“Sure,” Harry said, he noticed the clock and realized it was his time to get in places. He leaned down and placed a small kiss on Y/N’s cheek, “It’s my time, thank you, Y/N.” She blushed at his words and actions. As he walked out the door, she called after him, “Break a leg, H!” He sent a final air kiss in her direction before completely disappearing.
She looked at the clothes hanging on the rack in the room and palmed over the fabric. Checking the lapels and brushing the lint roller over the, she finally stepped back and was happy with how they looked. When the show was just about to start, she flitted to the part of backstage where she could watch Harry perform. She giggled along to his monologue and grinned whole-heartedly when the crowd would roar with approval. Y/N had heard all of the jokes already because of the dress rehearsal yesterday, but it didn’t matter. Harry was killing it. She also took time to appreciate how good Harry looked in his suit on stage. In front of the lights and all the people, his suit shined brightly with the pops of blue and yellow and the oversized grey-iege jacket. His soft chestnut hair billowed perfectly to frame his forehead as he sipped from the faux martini. Y/N bit her lip to stifle her laugh. The fact that Harry, her boss and friend, was up on the Saturday Night Live stage with pink and blue nails sipping from a faux martini, it was perfect.
When Harry came back for his first performance change Y/N was right there waiting for him.
“Hi, that was really good,” she smiled up at him as he began to take off his coat.
He smiled brightly back at her as he exhaled a hefty breath, “You think so?”
“Yes! C’mon, everyone loved it. You delivered it all perfectly…” she took over undoing the buttons on the shirt because Harry was moving too slowly. “I’m in a man band now…” Y/N mumbled under her breath before chuckling.
“Did you just imitate my accent?” Harry said, now pulling off his sleeves.
Y/N moved around his back to take the shirt to hang and grab his Lights Up outfit. They worked like a well-oiled machine together, constantly taking over roles to get things done more efficiently, but never stepping on each other’s toes.
“Nope,” she winked before handing him the black sequin jumpsuit and exchanging it for his yellow pants. After rehanging the pants and bringing over Harry’s different set of boots, Y/N said, “Y’know, I’d have to say that your hair is giving your suit a run for its money.” She placed the shoes on the table beside Harry and began to fix into the place different parts of the jumpsuit, moving to zip up the back and then coming to the front to smooth it.
“What do you mean?” Harry looked in the mirror and delicately touched the edges of his hair, considering Y/N’s statement.
“No one ever really sees it how it is, nicely blown out but not too much product so it falls to frame your face. What’d you tell the hair person you wanted?” Y/N stepped back to allow Harry to change his boots from one Gucci pair to another, like he did with most of his wardrobe.
“Just told them to make me look mature. You think it looks good?” He looked up at Y/N when he asked the question.
“Think it looks sexy, that’s what I’m saying, no one’s gonna be able to focus on your clothes with how good your hair looks.”
“Ah,” he deftly runs his hands down his suit as he looks in the mirror.
Y/N just stares at Harry, checking him over one more time. She wasn’t lying about his hair, it was sexy and she wanted to run her hands through it to feel how soft it was. In a complete friend way of course.
“I like it…”
“It looks like you just rolled out of bed, but the bed was made of angel feathers.”
Harry laughed at Y/N’s description. He shifted his body to face her more and moved closer to her in the process.
“Alright, you should probably get back out there,” Y/N closes the gap between them and adjusts the chain of his jade and silver crosses and brushes over his broad shoulders.
They’re professional touches, but her movements hold an undercurrent of intimacy that neither of them realize. If anyone had been looking on, they would see how Y/N’s fingers delicately caressed Harry’s skin right before she cradled the pendants to move them in place. They would also see Harry instinctively lean forward into her touch and breathe slightly deeper to take in her scent. When she brushes over his shoulders, he straightens up at the touch and shows he’s ready to get back out there. It’s as if she prepared him to go.
Harry sings Lights Up and the crowd loves it. Sarah kills her drumming and Mitch eats up lead guitar. The backup singers bring out a different tone to the song. It is all around an amazing performance.
As Y/N clapped along with the crowd from backstage, Aidy Bryant approaches her.
“You’re Harry’s stylist, right?”
Y/N turns her head at the woman next to her, “Yeah?”
Aidy smiles, eyes slightly gleaming, “Well, you’re wonderful at your job.” As Y/N is about to thank her, Aidy continues, “And Harry knows that too, he talked about you all week. We all thought you were his girlfriend at first.”
Y/N laughed lightly and had to keep herself from letting her jaw drop at Aidy’s words. She even choked a bit on her own spit and had to cough slightly before even being able to think of a response, “Well, um, yeah...no, H, Harry is just my employer and...friend. No dating, we just get along well. Which is important since we spend a lot of time together - for work of course!”
Aidy smiled sweetly at Y/N, “Yeah, Harry explained that when Beck asked him how long you’d been together. At first he had said a couple months and then said ‘wait, Y/N is just my stylist, we’ve been working together for a couple months’ and then we all felt really dumb.”
“Don’t feel dumb,” Y/N reassured her, unsure why she was actually continuing this conversation, “He loves to talk about clothes and that’s where I fit in to his life, so I’m sure my name would come up a fair bit. Was that it?”
“Yeah I guess, but-” Aidy began to say more, but Y/N cut her off.
“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, but Harry’s finished and I’ve got to go help him change for his next song.”
Aidy was left in Y/N’s wake, chuckling to herself, fully reassured about the reason that they had all thought Harry had been dating Y/N. Because they already acted like a couple. And they were both helplessly in love with one another and neither of them knew.
The rest of the show went off without a hitch. Harry continued to wow the crowd and Y/N sent him off from his dressing room always looking fabulous. Just as he was about to walk back on stage for his final farewell, Y/N noticed a tiny string on his trousers zipper. Unable to stop Harry and unable to grab at the string without looking odd, she had to let him walk on stage with it. It wasn’t actually a big deal, but Y/N sighed in annoyance because she knew that string was going to bug her for the rest of the night.
“Treat People With Kindness!” Harry finishes off his farewell.
Applause begins to sound and the cast is out front hugging and chatting, while Y/N is watching from the side still fixated on the string on Harry’s pants, now simply dangling. Finally, they begin to clear the stage because it’s time for the after party. Y/N knew there was no stealing Harry away to fix the problem that was now fixated in her mind. Every cast and crew member was trying to talk to him, congratulating him, hugging him, anything to spend time with the incredible man. Y/N couldn’t blame them, but she also wanted to be able to go some place quiet and debrief with Harry about his outfits. She wanted to look up what people were saying about his clothes and discuss the critiques with Harry. She also wanted to start discussing what was coming next with Harry. But most of all, she just wanted to hang out with Harry.
What Y/N wanted wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which she knew, but it still only grew her annoyance with that string. If only she could get it off of him, maybe then her mind would be able to relax a little.
She meandered backstage, resigned she wouldn’t be talking to Harry for a while. There she went to find the band’s dressing room, knowing she would find Mitch or Sarah who she’d be happy to talk to. They weren’t ones for the spotlight and no one ever really seemed to want to brownnose with them at events like this. Y/N had met them a few times.
The first was when Harry had asked Y/N to meet him in the studio in mid July, Mitch and Sarah had both been there helping Harry finish up something for the album. Y/N never asked what, she liked music quite a bit, but when it came to the technical part of it, it went completely over her head. Harry had introduced them both and they seemed lovely. After that, she had seen them around for an event or two of Harry’s. It wasn’t much, but it was more than any of the other people around right now.
Just as she was about to knock on the door it swung open, revealing Harry’s entire backing band. “Hey,” Y/N said sheepishly, “Harry’s being fawned over by the masses and I don’t actually know anyone else here. Is it alright if I hang out with you all at this after party? I doubt there’s going to be anyone really dying to meet the stylist.”
She smoothed her own clothes as she spoke. Y/N wanted to look professional tonight because sometimes when she was dressed in more fun or “young” clothes she got mistaken for someone who had snuck in. The only thing that got people to not question her authority to be where she was, was a card that read ‘staff’ that she would clip onto whatever she was wearing at places like this. Tonight, she chose a pair of purple plaid pants, a sleek lilac tank underneath a cream knit shawl, and cream Gucci mules.  Ever since Harry took an interest in Y/N’s pearl necklace, she had largely stopped wearing hers because she hoped never to be photographed matching with him. However, she had known the pearls would have completed the look, even putting them on in her hotel room, twisting a pearl in her hand as she looked in the mirror, and then taking the necklace off again and settling on a different silver necklace instead. The ‘staff’ card was clipped to her pants pocket tonight.
“Of course!” Sarah said as the band began to file out of the room, “You might want to take your tag off now, though, you’re done working for the night.”
Her laughter rang sweetly through Y/N’s ears and she smiled back before removing her identifying card. She hated the piece of plastic and was glad to take it off, it never went with her outfits, but she had gotten tired of taking out her business card every time someone asked what she was doing. Y/N was sure that during the tour she’d be fine without it, but as Harry’s show appearances were beginning to ramp up she knew it would be helpful to have.
“Thanks...you all were amazing out there tonight. Second time on the SNL stage right?”
The group of you began to walk in the direction of where the after party was being held. Mitch piped up, “Thanks. Yeah, I love their box stage setup, it’s pretty cool.” Y/N was happy that she had people who were easy to talk to so that she wouldn’t be alone tonight.
Arriving in the room of the party, they were all quick to grab the alcohol that was being provided at the pop up bar. Y/N wasn’t normally a fan of drinking at events like these, mainly because she was not usually invited to this part of the night and when she was she wanted to be alert. But she figured there wasn’t much else to do so she took a hearty sip of the champagne. It was a little sweet, her face scrunched.
“Too sweet?” Mitch questioned when he saw Y/N’s face.
“Just a little for my taste.”
“Harry’s not going to be drinking tonight then. So particular about his alcohol,” Mitch continued.
Y/N laughed, “Well I’m glad, then I don’t have to deal with him being a baby about his hangover tomorrow.”
Mitch quirked an eyebrow at Y/N’s statement. Sarah and the others in the band had dispersed to mingle with the SNL party goers, leaving Mitch and Y/N to their conversation.
Realizing what she said could be seen as slightly weird out of context, Y/N quickly started again, “because I’m supposed to go shopping with Harry tomorrow. He wanted to go to Gucci and a couple other stores here before flying to LA. I’m going back to London until the listening parties, so we need to figure out the finishing touches for those and..” Y/N trailed off trying to remember which looks weren’t completed yet for the next few shows, Mitch waited patiently, “a few of the suits for the Late Late Show. He’s not happy with one of them so we might switch it. But anyway, you know how he is with a hangover. Proper child.”
Mitch threw his head back in laughter at Y/N’s serious look that she gave him. “Yeah, he can be...a lot. I meant to tell you, Harry looked great tonight. All of the clothes were fantastic,” Mitch added.
He was kind and Y/N appreciated him sticking with her. The two of them had rested themselves against a wall near the bar, sipping their champagne and enjoying each other’s company.
“Thank you.”
Mitch opened his mouth to say something else, but Heidi Gardener, another SNL member interrupted.
“Y/N, right!?”
Y/N and Mitch both turn to her, equally taken aback by the sudden burst of energy from this person they didn’t really know. Y/N nodded.
“Oh my gosh! You have to tell me where you got the jacket Harry is wearing!”
Heidi even goes as far to point in Harry’s direction. Y/N knows what she’s talking about, but her eyes still wander to where she pointed. Harry stood in a clump of people, surrounded by Ben Winston, James Corden, and the Gerbers who had all come to watch. She sighed as she watched his eyes shine as he laughed with a smile on his face. She hoped that by now the string had fallen off his pants by now, if not she was going to kick herself later.
“Oh, it’s Bode,” Y/N’s eyes coming back to meet Heidi’s happy face, “but it’s custom made from a vintage blanket. There’s only two that exist.”
Y/N and Mitch watched as Heidi’s face dropped.
“And I’m pretty sure the designer owns the other one,” Y/N added, “Sorry.”
Heidi smiles and jokes, “Know any ways I could possibly get Harry to give me his?”
“He loves that coat. I have no idea what you could possibly do to convince him he didn’t need it anymore.”
“Sex, probably,” Mitch says under his breath.
Heidi doesn’t catch it as she walks back off and Y/N turns to swat him with her free hand.  
“What? He always gives away his clothes to girl’s he has crushes on.” Y/N rolls her eyes at Mitch’s words.
“Probably best if you don’t inform the masses about that,” a new voice says.
Unbeknownst to Mitch and Y/N, Harry had broken away from his entourage to steal a few minutes with his two friends, his best friends if he was being honest. They laugh together as he wraps his arms around their shoulders and pulls them both into his chest. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from Harry’s body as she snuggles into his side. Her hand wraps under his jacket and around his waist to squeeze right about his hip bone. His face is gleaming with a small sheen of sweat, but his smile is so big she barely notices his perspiration as he looks down at her.
“Heard you were talkin’ shit?”
Mitch quips, “Us? Never.”
Harry scoffs, “Come off it!”
When he releases Y/N and Mitch from his grasp, Mitch straightens up while Y/N’s eyes immediately go down to Harry’s crotch. She’s not paying attention to their conversation as she tries to make out in the dim light whether the string is gone or not. The men realize she’s not listening and they both follow her gaze.
Confused, Harry asks, “Y/N, any particular reason you’re staring at my dick?”
Her head shoots up, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from embarrassment.
“I wasn’t!”
Mitch laughs and decides he wants another glass of champagne right then, mumbling something about how that was his cue. Harry smiles, knowing she wasn’t doing what he had said, but still intrigued to know what was going on in her mind.
“You had a string right on your zipper and it’s been bugging me since you went out for your outro. This is the first time I’ve seen you on your own and I couldn't exactly go up to you in a random crowd and grab at your crotch. But now I can’t see in this light…” Y/N bit at her lower lip and furrowed her brow still trying to see if the string was there.
“Have you really been thinking about it this whole time?” Harry asked, slightly concerned.
“Yes...I know it doesn’t matter, but I just want your clothes to look perfect.”
Harry takes a deep breath as he makes a small smile at Y/N. Then he brushes over the front of his pants, hoping he removes the string if it's still attached to him. “There, I’m sure it’s gone now. I’m sorry you had to worry about that. Just know everyone I’ve talked to has been raving about the clothes.” He placed his ring-clad hand on Y/N’s upper arm and squeezed it.
“You did an amazing job,” Y/N said.
Harry pulls her into his chest one more time. This time without Mitch so both of Harry’s arms go around her shoulders and both of hers go around his slender waist. Again her hands disappear under his coat and thumb over his warm white t-shirt, her face resting on his chest right next to the word ‘Sex’. His arms tighten around her back as they rest there for a while. Y/N always has to make herself pull away, knowing that Harry will stay there for as long as he can - in anyone’s embrace - and remembering they’re in a public setting, she didn’t want anyone to assume things, even if she had already been made aware that people had.
“We’ll debrief more later tonight, yeah? The champagne is terrible so I won’t be drinking,” Harry said.
Y/N laughed under her breath as she smiled at his words. Mitch and her knew Harry too well. She nodded about getting together later, “Alright. Get back to your fan club.” Harry narrowed her eyes at her words, not sure if she was trying to sound sarcastic or not.
-
Hey, I’m back at the hotel. Just let me know when you want to debrief :) x
Y/N texted Harry the minute she got back to the hotel, she had no idea if he had left before her or was still at the after party. All she knew was that it was late and she was starting to get tired. Still, it was important for them to talk about their plans for tomorrow and she also really wanted to just be with him alone. Whenever they would debrief after big events Harry and Y/N would laugh at all the outrageous stuff they had seen go on throughout the night.
When she was still a freelance stylist she had helped Harry to plan his Camp outfit at the Met Gala. That night, they never even went to bed and had to debrief about the clothes the next afternoon over tea at the Palace. Both her and Harry were recovering from their exhaustion and nursing equally terrible hangovers. But there they were, sitting in the center of the dining area of the hotel, being served some of the nicest tea and sandwiches Y/N had ever had. It was amazing. Y/N had never felt that rich in her life before and Harry had told her the craziest stories about the most famous people in attendance. It was almost unbelievable what these people would reveal to Harry and Y/N was happy to listen to all of it, promising to never tell anyone else. That outing was probably the first time Harry realized he really liked Y/N and wanted to work more closely with her.
While tonight wasn’t quite as wild as the Met Gala had been, Y/N was still excited to hear any funny stories Harry might have in addition to their clothing talk. They really hadn’t had much time to chat since she had gotten to New York yesterday so it would be nice to just be alone together. Even if Y/N chalked their debriefs up to ‘shop talk’, she was always very excited for them.
As she reached her hotel room door, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.
I’m still out, but should be heading back soon. Up to you if you want to wait up or we can just debrief in the morning while we shop. x H  
Y/N sighed at the message, she wanted to wait up and debrief before tomorrow, if not for alone time with Harry but professionally for being able to plan out their shopping tomorrow. Where Harry was carefree, Y/N was meticulous and planned out. She liked to have fun, but she knew when she had to get her work done, even when Harry was off in his own mind. Their work styles mostly coincided, Harry could be serious and focused, too, but often when he was surrounded by all his famous friends he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to whatever came up. So Y/N knew that Harry’s definition of ‘soon’ could range from actually soon to almost dawn. She really hoped he actually meant soon, so she shot him a text saying:
Just knock on my room and if I open it we can debrief lol x
Harry smiled down at his phone when Y/N’s text came through, slightly chuckling before double tapping and placing a heart reaction of her text. Then he was pulled into the limo that one of his friend’s had gotten them and was handed a flute of champagne.
Back at the hotel, Y/N threw her phone on the bed and decided to change and simply settle in for the night. If Harry made it back, he made it back and if he didn’t she’d wake up well rested.
Maybe thirty minutes into scrolling on her phone, Y/N heard a rough knock on her door. She was actually quite surprised that Harry had indeed been back soon. Rising from her snuggled place in the bed, she shifted around her night clothes and padded to her door. There stood, rather hung, a slightly disheveled Harry. His hair was whipped into disaster, something was smudged on his face, and she noticed a stain on his t-shirt that hadn’t been there the last time she’d been with him.
He slurred her name as he stumbled through the doorway. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She was in awe that somehow Harry hadn’t gotten off his ass in the past hour and a half.
“What happened to not drinking tonight?”
She walked beside him and helped shove him into a sitting position on her bed. He flapped his arms, chaotically trying to get his plaid jacket off. Throwing her phone in the direction of her pillow, she moved to help Harry with his jacket. After quite a bit of strugglings, Y/N finally got the Bode jacket off of him successfully and threw it onto the nearby chair. Sighing, she settled beside him.
“So, Harry, care to explain?”
“Hi, Y/N…” He swayed slightly, attempting to face Y/N more. She threw out a hand to his shoulder, gripping him tightly to try and steady him.
“We went in this limousine, and they had champagne - good champagne - and I drank a bottle or so pretty quickly.”
“Or so? Oh Harry...I mean you’re free to make your own choices, but I don’t know if this was one of your best.”
“Wasn’t...wasn’t my idea. I was planning on just going back to the hotel. Then James convinced me to come out for a bit. Then the champagne was looking good so I went for it.”
“Like I said, you can make your own choices,” she patted his arm and went to the en suite bathroom to wet a washcloth to clean off his face.
“So, is it champagne on your shirt or am I going to have to go through hell to get the stain out?” She called.
Harry groaned and leaned back on the bed, fingering at the crisp white sheets. “Champagne,” he finally muttered as Y/N reappeared into the dim room, only the outside world and the light in the bathroom lighting this area.
“And on the face?”
She climbed onto the bed and kneeled beside Harry’s prone body, beginning to swipe at the smudge on his face. He tilted his head to face her, bringing the cheek with the dirt to lay facing perfectly up. His jawline showed perfectly and she felt the strength that laid beneath the skin she was washing.
His eyes flitted up to her face, trying to stop the spins he was currently experiencing. He hadn’t thought he was that drunk until he had been required to find his way up to their floor on his own.
“Lipstick?”
She sighed, running the washcloth over his cheek once more, and tried to push the image of some woman (or man who wore lipstick, she guessed) with her lips all over Harry’s face. She didn’t want to know who it was or why it was. It was too hard, especially after the day of people asking her about Harry and her relationship and insinuating things about him and his romantic life. She just liked to keep the words Harry and romance apart as much as possible, it made her life easier that way.
“It was only from-”
“It’s ok, Harry, I don’t need to know who you were…” She stopped herself, not even wanting to say ‘kissing’ or ‘snogging’ or even worse ‘shagging’. Adults were human beings and they could do a lot in an hour and a half. And again, she didn’t want to know.
“You keep doing that. Are you mad at me?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Calling me Harry, not ‘H’. Is it because you’re mad at me?”
“No,” she sighed, shifting to sit more casually, “No, I’m not mad at you. I just wasn’t expecting you to show up at my door like this. I try not to worry about you, but then when you show up like this, it kind of affirms I had reason to be concerned.”
She took a hand and smoothed over Harry’s tousled hair, he rolled his head back to face the ceiling. “Like I said, you’re an adult, capable of making his own decisions. And, I am just your stylist. I’m just glad you made it up here and knocked on my door. Probably would have given someone else a fright.”
He laughed, starting to sober up as the spinning in the room stopped. Her hands on his face and hair were soothing and sobering.
“Thank you for caring about me, love. And going beyond being just my stylist, you’re my friend Y/N.”
His eyes flickered shut and Y/N stared at his soothed features. His words were still slurred and she was sure the use of love was just his britishness slipping through his drunken state. The part about being more than a stylist, she tried to push it away, telling herself not to read more into it than her heart would like to. Even though he said she was a friend as well as a stylist and not anything more, it still sent so much joy through her body. He didn’t just see her as a work colleague and he had said it. But in his inebriated state, Y/N didn’t want to take everything he said as gospel.
She moved him up the bed with a little bit of his sleepy self’s help into a more comfortable position. It was pretty late now and she wasn’t going to kick him out. It would have been rude and unkind and that were two things Y/N rarely was. She went and grabbed the extra blanket from the cabinet and draped it over Harry’s large body for extra warmth since he refused to get under the covers. She also slipped off his boots and stained shirt per his request before getting into the other side of the bed and falling asleep.
-
She awoke to a shifting body beside her and she sat up confused as to who it could be. Quickly, Harry showing up drunk at her door came flooding back and she turned to look at the groaning Harry beside her. His arm was thrown over his face as he moaned, just waking up as well and experiencing the first bits of his hangover. This was going to be a long day.
“Hullo,” his voice was especially low, groggy and hoarse from the night before. He peaked over at her from behind the crook of his elbow. His eyelids barely open and his eyelashes weighing them down so much so that she could barely see his sleepy jade eyes.
“Good morning, H. Have a nice rest?” Y/N sat up and began to ready herself for the day, rummaging through her suitcase for an outfit and moving about the room.
Harry’s arms went to his sides as he worked to sit up, eyes following her figure as she moved around, seemingly not groggy very much unlike him. “Erm...I’m sorry for showing up pissed.”
“S’fine, H. Just glad you didn’t end up in a ditch or someone’s bed - someone’s that you might regret…” She barely regards him, throwing a single glance his way before shuffling to the bathroom to change. She knows they’ll be photographed today, it’s almost inevitable right now. Everyone knows Harry is in New York and people are buzzing to see him after his performance last night. She slips on the 70s inspired dress, the v-neck and long sleeves settling perfectly on her frame, it hugs her curves and lands around mid-thigh. Rolling on the bold mustard yellow tights and strapping up the brown leather mary jane heels, she looks herself over in the mirror. She then tries to tame her hair and do the rest of her routine, knowing she needed to get on with the day, shopping first and flying home second. Making sure Harry was okay was also on that list, but she couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t a little disappointed in him after last night.
When she returns, Harry is sitting with his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, head hanging as he’s hunched over himself. “C’mon, you gotta get going, kid. Lots to do today.” She’s pacing over to Harry’s deflated figure to pick him up and prompt him to get moving. When she arrives by his side his head lifts and his now more awake eyes stare up at her.
“I’m sorry for yesterday, really. I mean it.”  
“I told you already. It’s fine.”
“It’s not - or it wasn’t. You called me ‘Harry’ last night. I don’t think I’ve heard you call me that to my face since we started working together. I took your answer last night because I was swimming in it, but now, thinking about it. I know you were upset.”
She huffs, taking a seat beside Harry on the bed, choosing to not look at him, slightly confused why she had been so upset and why he was pushing it. “Ok, yeah I was annoyed, but I was also genuinely worried. I didn’t know you could physically get that drunk in that small amount of time. And then you show up at my door with somebody else’s…” Y/N falters, catching her slip up and deciding to fix her gaze on her shoes and their intricate design built into the leather.
“You’re upset that I had lipstick on me?” He’s trying to meet Y/N’s gaze, but her eyes are really interested in her shoes. His tone is confused, he’s trying to understand what’s going on in her mind.
She scoffs, risking a glance to Harry but then returns quickly back to her dress this time. “Please...it was just inconvenient for me, okay? Thought we were going to debrief and stayed up late for you. Then I had to take care of you after you hung out with your famous pals and I had barely even seen you all day. Felt a bit used.”
Harry shifted in the bed, turning to face her by tucking one leg beneath him. He places a hand on hers that was placed on the end of her dress. Her eyes finally meet with his and she feels her breath slightly catch in her throat. His eyes are piercing, his gaze intense, maybe even a tinge of anger. “Y/N, I would never have come to your room if I even had an inkling that this would be how you’d interpret it . Even though I was drunk, I wanted to see you, that’s why I came up here, because I wanted to be with my friend, one of my best friends, not because I just needed some pushover to care for me.”
She sighs, feeling icky still about the whole situation. She sometimes found herself in fights that she never intended, she wished she hadn’t said anything at all. But she also knew that wasn’t healthy either. Flipping her hand, she intertwines her fingers with Harry’s and smiles for the first time that morning. His expression softens at it. “Look, I’m sorry too, H. It honestly wasn’t that big of a deal, but I appreciate that you’re such a great guy and boss to want to truly apologize and make sure I’m comfortable and happy… Oh, and I promise I’ll never call you anything but H from here on out - unless you tell me otherwise.”
He cackles unabashedly at her words, before suddenly clutching at his temple with his free hand. “Fuckin’ hangover,” he mumbles. She smiles and stands up, beginning to throw his shirt and shoes from the end of the bed at him, “You need to get ready. Go pop some advil or whatever. My flights at 5 so we haven’t got all day, H.”
“There she is,” Harry grins, beginning to put back on the stained ‘Sex’ shirt.
As he hustles out of the room, shoes in hand, she calls to him one last request, “When you’re in fresh clothes make sure you bring me that stained shirt. Gonna have to spot clean it when I’m back in London!”
“Of course! And we’ll debrief as we shop, yeah?”
“Yes!”
The two of them were shouting to each other as the door continued to close on them. Chuckling to herself, she begins to pack up her room, knowing she had to check out before they left. Her spirits already lifted, she doesn’t even notice as she throws Harry’s forgotten Bode jacket into her suitcase with some other items that had been on her chair. She wouldn’t notice it until she was back in London unpacking from the trip.
Shutting the case, she springs back up from her crouched position and walks to look in the full length mirror again. Her fingers run the length of her dress, leafing over the slightly darker brown embroidered flowers that were woven into the tan fabric. She squints as she turns sideways and pops a heel up behind her. It looks good, but something is missing. Rummaging through her carry-on she pulls out her old butterfly bandana she used as a head scarf and begins to fix it into place on her head. Placing large sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, she feels like the look is complete and gives herself some poses in the mirror; a peace sign, an air kiss, a Marilyn Monroe. She laughs at herself.
A knock on the door shakes her from her childish fun. Straightening up, Y/N saunters over to the door, swinging it open with ease. “H?”
“You ready?” Harry stands in a fresh pair of Marni trousers paired with a striped orange and mauve Marni sweater. He, like Y/N, had this thing about wearing the brand you planned to shop at. He didn’t always stick to his rule, but he usually didn’t like to wear Gucci when he shopped at Gucci.
“Yeah, just need to check out and drop my baggage at the front to be held for later.” Y/N slips through the door and notes how his outfit compliments hers. She wouldn’t mention it, but it's something to think about since he had known what she was wearing. She wasn’t sure why she noticed things like that, if asked, her answer would probably be that it was the stylist in her, just her job.
-
Stepping out of a black town car on the side street next to Gucci to go in the side entrance would never get old for Y/N. She had never really enjoyed the idea of fame, but from a young age she had known she wanted to be able to afford the finer things in life. Going into the Gucci store now, especially with Harry, was like going to the candy store once you’re a grown up and can buy whatever you want rather than what your parents will allow you to.
Today, Harry and Y/N didn’t have as much time as they would usually like to spend in the store, but they were just happy to be doing what they loved. Y/N had been ecstatic to find out Harry found shopping to be an essential part of his life and that he liked to do his outfit shopping in person rather than online. Trying on clothes and picking out things you liked just was so much more fulfilling when you were in the physical store. Then make that all happen with Harry Styles as the buyer, then it was a real party. The stores liked to pull out their Champagne and clear the store to allow him privacy, specifically when it was for clothes for projects under wraps. In the beginning of her employment, it was only ever Harry who would do the trying on of clothes, but as the two of them got acquainted and comfortable with each other, she found herself trying things Harry would pick out for her. At first, she would veto some items saying they were too expensive for her, but eventually she learned that her new salary covered whatever it was. She had always enjoyed designer labels and choosing to be a stylist meant she had nice clothes, but only working for Harry had caused her closet to double in size and triple in value.
“So we are looking for some trousers today,” she tells the worker at the store, reminding them of what she had already called ahead about. The employee nods and proceeds to lead them into the room where they had laid out an assortment of pants for Harry to pick from.
“What do you think of these?” Harry walks out and strikes a pose, popping one of his hips to the side and his hands on his hips. The pants strain around his thighs, but fit practically perfectly everywhere else. His slim waist is perfectly encircled by the fabric and he’s decided the sweater he was wearing didn’t match them and he’d rather go shirtless. This choice technically should allow her to solely focus on the pants, but it actually makes her focus that much more diverted. She makes a spinning motion with her pointer finger as she purses her lips. He takes a quick spin and the boot cut slightly flares with his movement. The pants are a dark brown with a single plaid crossing in a lighter brown. They are only lightly flared, which she prefered to the extreme flare that some of Harry’s suits had. She narrows her eyes at the pants to keep her gaze from shifting to the taut muscles of Harry’s arms and torso or the dark ink that licked over his skin in the beautiful designs of his choice.
“They’re nice,” she pulls up a picture of the top part of the outfit he was planning on wearing, “Do you think they match with this though?” Harry walks over to her seated position and bends to look at her phone. His skin radiates heat and the smell of his cologne and she sniffles slightly with her sensitive nose. His eyes flicker to her face when he notices her little noise, but returns to looking at the phone when she doesn’t spare him a glance. She felt his gaze on her, but couldn’t bring herself to look from the phone. She knew his proximity would make it even harder for her to keep her eyes off his naked torso. The expensive smell of Harry mixed with the expensive smell of the store was a lot to handle.
“Yeah...no. You think they’re not right,” she widens her eyes at Harry’s words when he pulls away. He turns to the mirror in the open dressing room and fiddles with the waistline of the pants. “I agree,” he finishes before stalking back into the room and shutting the heavy velvet curtain that worked as the door to it.
He tries on five more pairs of trousers and finally settles on two pairs for the two different listening parties. A heavier, wool-tweed pair that was dark brown and then a lighter brown tweed pair. He was still in the lighter pants as he stared into the mirror. He beckoned to Y/N, and she quickly set down the flute of Champagne she had been sipping at lazily as he admired himself.
“Is it possible for you to take it in a bit more,” he says in a hushed tone to her, not wanting the workers to overhear. They were helpful but if they overheard they would wait for the store to tailor the trousers and he preferred for Y/N to do it. He rubs at the waistline again and she moves closer, her hands going to his sides. Her fingertips graze the naked skin above the trousers and Harry shivers at the coldness of the new touch. She ghosts softly over the waistline herself and smooths the fabric until she’s pinching a small amount on each side. She hums, pulling back from Harry and looking at the fit of them now, examining whether that makes them look better.
Then she nods and smiles up at Harry, “Ever the slender waist,” he grins right back as she admires him. She knew how much he liked praise and she was happy to give it to him, especially when he was so deserving. “I’d say size down, but then your thighs and bum might strain the fabric too much.” His face turns to a smirk as she blushes at her words. She releases the fabric and takes a hand to pat Harry’s smooth chest before walking back to her seat on the lovely couch.
“You sure you don’t want to try anything on, Y/N? Saw some killer boots when we walked in that screamed you.” Harry calls from behind the curtain, presumably getting redressed. Her laugh comes through the curtain slightly muffled, yet still a sweet melody in Harry’s ears.
“Definitely not now, we’re leaving any minute. Plus, I’ve got plenty of Gucci boots, don’t even show me them or I’ll be tempted.”
His laughter rings through the curtains, loud and unrestrained. She smiles to herself, unable to discourage the pleasure that weaves through her at the sound. His presence in all the different ways she experienced it was instantly comforting.
-
When she arrives back to her London flat, she practically flops on her couch once she’s inside the door. Her luggage forgotten at the door, as she shrugs off her coat. It was around 7 am because she had chosen to take the red eye for some reason. She groaned as she thought about the day ahead of her. Even though Harry was halfway across the globe, she still had plenty of work to do. She had to finalize the outfits for the listening parties now that they had the pants to complete the looks. Then she had to start thinking about Harry’s December appearances. She had sent ahead his Late Late outfits that he had needed in Los Angeles for the pre-filming, but she still had to deal with the outfits for the live part of the show.
Today, she was set to go pick up the other pieces needed for the listening parties as well as items for the Graham Norton Show and Jingle Ball. She was most excited for her travels because that meant looking at brand new clothes that were perfect and gorgeous. She also knew she needed to spot clean Harry’s shirt, which didn’t spark as much joy in her tired mind.
The idea of the shirt staining with alcohol was what brought her out of her snuggling with her comfy couch. Sure, it couldn’t get that bad, but still she was a worrier and it would pain her if the iconic shirt got ruined. She padded back over to her luggage, now without her jacket or shoes. Her major suitcase got flipped on its side and she began to unzip it. It came open easily seeing as it was stuffed with her clothes and various items. She had to rummage a minute for Harry’s shirt that seemed to have run away inside the bag. Finally, the large white shirt made itself known and she grasped it happily.
As she looked over the stain near the collar of the shirt, her eyes traveled to a piece of fabric peeking out of her suitcase. It was a familiar blue, cream and white. A specific fabric she would never misplace, would never not recognize. Harry’s plaid Bode jacket. It was iconic and she loved it, but why did she have it in her suitcase. She definitely didn’t mean to have it, it’s genuinely just one of Harry’s jackets so it wouldn’t make sense for her to bring it back with the show's wardrobe. She tries to think back to yesterday, when she was still in New York. Thinking about why she would have it, she places the memories of Harry coming to her room, taking off his coat, and accidentally leaving it in her room all fit together. She must have just absentmindedly placed it in her suitcase without even realizing. She’s sure Harry wouldn’t mind, she’d shoot him a text, though, to tell him she had it. So he wouldn’t worry about whether he’d lost it or not.
When she gets ready for the day, she finds herself being drawn to blue and cream. Her outfit is understated and she just knows the jacket would finish the look. She loved that jacket and now that she had it, would it be a big deal if she wore it out. She figured it was fine. After she grabbed her purse, keys, and other essentials, she slipped on the coat. Harry was very broad shouldered and it hung oversized on her. She loved the look and snapped a selfie in the mirror before she headed out. While it felt a little narcissistic to constantly take photos of herself, she felt like as a stylist it was important to document her looks just as much as she documented her clients.
What she didn’t think about is just how much the rest of the world liked to document her client and those who were seen with her client. She didn’t think about how she had just been seen with Harry yesterday. That thought didn’t even cross her mind as she walked around the streets of London picking up her work. As she saw some photographers out and about (whom she assumed were for famous celebrities, not her). How it might seem with her wearing the Bode jacket Harry had worn on SNL two nights ago. The Bode jacket that there were only two of.
None of it crossed her mind. Not until it was the end of the day and she had a whole slew of texts from Harry’s manager. A few from Harry, and others but the other fifteen were solely from Jeff. She was a bad texter so as she walked into her flat and finally looked at her phone after putting down all of her garment bags her eyes went wide.
Please tell me you’re not out in London right now!
What are you wearing??
That cannot be Harry’s jacket Y/N
Seriously?
Please call me.
CALL ME. NOW.
      - All from Jeff.
She grimaced. The others from her friends including Harry would have to be ignored right now. Even if Harry was her boss, Jeff was who she had to deal with when it came to public appearances and it didn’t seem like she could get around this one. Normally, she never had to deal with him, but it seems today wasn’t normal.
part 2
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rphelperblog · 7 months ago
Text
Anastasia the musical starter part one
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“In my dreams, shadows call. There’s a light at the end of the road.”
“I don’t know a thing before that.”
“Taking what I needed, working when I could.”
“How do you become the person you forgot you ever where?”
“If I can learn to do it, you can learn to do.”
“A revolution is a simple thing.”
“I heard the shots. I hear the screams, but it’s the silence after that I remember most.”
“The world stopped breathing and I was no longer a boy.”
“My mother said he died of shame.”
“Could I have pulled the trigger if I had been told?”
“I bartered for a blanket, stolen for my bread.”
“There are some who survive some who don’t”
“Funny when a city is all you know.”
“Even when you hate it, something in you loves it so.”
“That’s where I learned my stuff in some rough company.”
“Nothing here to hold me. No one that I know.”
“But tonight , there’s a sky and quite a view.”
“Dancing bears, painted wing, things i almost remember.”
“Someone holds me safe and warm. “
“Figures dancing gracefully across my memory.”
“Far away, long ago glowing dim as an emeber.”
“How can I desert you?”
“How to tell you why?”
“coachman hold the horses, stay I pray you.”
“How can I desert you? How to tell you why?”
“Let me have a moment.Let me say goodbye.”
“i’ll bless my homeland tell I die.”
“Though the scars remain and the tears will never dry.”
“You are all I know. You have raised me.”
“How to go where I have never gone before?”
“We’ll go from there.”
“I may have gotten fatter, but that won’t matter.”
“Hands shaking, heart thundering, meet the royal mess.”
“Start smiling, stop wondering why did I say yes.”
“Keep a grip and take a deep breathe and soon we will know what’s what.”
“An underhanded girl.An act of desperation.And to my consternation I let her go...”
She wants what she can get-Is that a fair depiction? Does she believe her fiction?”
If my father asked questions Well...where would we be?”
She's nothing but a child.A waif who needs protection”
She says it's all a game.She trembles like a flower But in her, there's a power.I see that now!”
"I'm innocent!" She cries!But then, you see her eyes and something in them tells you that she absolutely lies!”
Heart, don't fail me now! Courage, don't desert me!”
People always say life is full of choices. No one ever mentions fear”
Somewhere down this road I know someone's waiting. Years of dreams just can't be wrong.”
Home, love, family.There was once a time I must have had them too.”
Home, love, family.I will never be complete until I find you.”
“We will do some reminsing she’ll see what she’s been missing.”
One step at a time.One hope then another who knows where this road may go.”
Yes, let this be a sign! Let this road be mine.Let it lead me to my past, And bring me home”
“We have shed our tears and shared our sorrow.”
“Things my heart used to know, things it yearns to remember 
“some give up, some give in. Me I won’t.”
“But you’d behave when your father gave that look.”
“You were born in a palace by the sea.”
“Horseback riding, me?”
“They said I was found on the side of the road.”
Everyone’s a writer, painter, poet.Everything is avant garde Or chic.”
I dreamed of a city beyond all compare.It’s hard to believe that I’m finally there.”
“And then come what may.We will each go our way…”
Halfway between where I've been.And where I'm going In between wondering why and finally knowing.”
Maybe we're sharing this beautiful night.Me on the left bank. You on the right”
These strangers, come calling Soon enough they're gone.
The twilight is falling, lamps will soon go on
And where did summer go I will never know summer used to last endlessly Children all in white, running down the sand To me
These strangers, sent packing What do they expect.So grasping,So lacking why not be direct.
You're a lie that I've waited for. Tell them all to go.Tell them all no more.Tell them I close the door.
“once I had a palace. Here meerly a flat.”
“Once ladies in waiting all bending a knee. Now only one lady waiting, me.”
“Let’s live in the land of yesterday.”
“Let’s put on the fancy clothes and while are woes away.”
“In dire circumstances, why wallow in regret?”
“Let’s run up the bill as if we are still royalty at bay.”
“Why are here except to forget?”
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cabinofimagines · a day ago
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Electric Blue
So for no reason I listened to this song and have wanted to write something with it for a while now so- here it is!
Pairing: Percy Jackson x Reader Request: None Song: Electric Blue by Sorry, Peach Word count: 2k Warnings: it's angsty, also spoilers for everything
-Asja
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I finally gave him back his electric blue hoodie
You can't begin to comprehend what it did to me
When I saw his face and looked into his eyes
I told myself I wouldn't fantasize
Giving up is something Percy Jackson would never do. He is the most stubborn guy you have ever met- he probably got it from his mom, and that was one of the reasons why you fell for him. You two had been friends, best friends, for so long, you met when you both were twelve, when he got to camp.
“So, Peter, right?” you walked up to the boy who was mere inches shorter than you. “It’s Percy.” he didn’t look too pleased with your mistake, you shot him a look back. “Mr. D. get’s my name right, most of the time.” you felt the need to brag a little, and the expression of unbelieve that crossed Percy’s face made it all worth it, “Anyways, wanna spar? Luke said you were about the best he had trained in a while- and I need to get better.” you asked, suddenly feeling bashful and looking at the ground.
“Sure, I don’t see why not.”
You two got along so well and it pained you to see him leave for a quest, for something that was not even his fault, but you waited for him. And he came back, as he had promised, Grover and Annabeth by his side as he paraded his toga, courtesy of the Ares cabin. That night you smiled together at the campfire, and as you shivered Percy tried to offer you his hoodie.
“But I am taller than you- it won’t fit.” you laughed and Percy hit your arm. “One day I will outgrow you- I promise!”
And he did, for now he stood a good head taller than you before you. You looked up into his eyes and let out a sigh. “Just take it back Perce,” you felt your throat close as you held out his hoodie. You were reminded of the hours you wore it- every campfire he gave it to you as you shivered, the gesture being enough to warm you back up. As he was leaving camp to go to New Rome with Annabeth, you knew you couldn’t keep living this dream.
'Cause you know just what to do
To make me forget that I'm so mad at you
And I can't help but hate you
'Cause I'm still in love with you
Even though you put me through hell
“This is for when you get cold.” He handed you a badly wrapped present. It was the last day of summer, and as you were recovering from the injuries you had sustained during the battle of Manhattan Percy had come to see you. You squint your eyes, feeling your heart stutter as you look down on the package. You wanted to hide away from him- you had heard the news of Percy and Annabeth and you had secretly hoped to avoid the happy couple for the last weeks of summer. As you unwrapped it, it revealed Percy’s hoodie, the one he often wore and sometimes had lended to you when you were cold.
“Why?” you asked, looking at the boy. “Well, you often get cold and-” he looked to the side, “I just wanted to thank you for being my friend. I know this was hard and I am so glad you are alright- and-,”
“Perce, there is no need,” you put your hand on his arm, “I am happy to be your friend, and we’ll hopefully stay friends for much longer.” you smiled, and as Percy nodded you hoped it looked genuine. Percy would be kind enough to never turn his back on you- as your friend, he was stubborn enough to seek you out even as you were trying to run away from him. He knew you like the back of his hand, and you suspected he knew of your feelings- but maybe he didn’t, maybe he was oblivious, maybe you could let him be in your life a little longer, pretend he loves you too.
So maybe I'm the masochist
Maybe that's why I still miss your kiss
Not sure who I hate more
Me or you
“Why?” Percy asked, looking concerned, this was far from the first hoodie you had stolen from him, but gradually over summer his old hoodies miraculously started to reappear in his cabin. Percy hadn’t really minded the extra clothes, but he did realize that you were putting them back. He tried to lend them to you again- carefully offering them, but you had refused and gone back to your cabin. Percy tried to figure out why- why were you rejecting him? You never had, and truly he noticed how little time you two had spent together this summer. It had been hard on you, but this was one of the first summers where there weren’t any life threatening wars and it was the first summer where you had truly seen Percy and Annabeth together. It had started to sink in that Percy did not belong to you, and that you did not belong to him.
'Cause I keep letting you wreck my mind
Seek the truth and you will find
You're bad for me
Percy hadn’t meant to forget you- but his mind only thought of you when he saw you, tired and dirty, after they beat Gaia. He locked his eyes with you and memories flooded his mind of you- and him, and the warmth you brought him every time he had come back to camp- came back to you after his quests. Whereas Annabeth was his anchor to this world- you seemed to be the shore it led to. “(Y/n)!” he yelled as he ran towards you. You felt tears well up- it had been months and you were sure he was gone this time. You gripped the hoodie you were wearing- it was the first one he had given you, it was worn and torn now, but you had worn it today for luck, for him. As his arms closed around you, you felt tears escape your eyes, and as you spotted Annabeth slowly making her way to you, you cried a little harder.
I finally told myself it's time to move on
I finally told myself to stop writing songs
'Cause every time I leave you behind you run right back
Made up my mind there's no rewind don't come back
“I think I have enough hoodies, Perce.” you shrugged trying to play it off, but he glared at you. “No, I feel there is something else. What’s going on?” Ah, stubborn as ever. You let a faux smile adorne your face as you laughed. “There is nothing else, I promise.” And that was the problem- how much you had wished for more, there was nothing between the two of you. “You’re avoiding eye contact, you only do that when hiding something.” you looked up into his eyes, trying to prove him wrong, only to feel yourself crack.
“Why are you not looking at me? (Y/n)...” Percy’s tone took a dangerous turn as you looked away, trying to hide the fact that you had just stolen a hoodie from his closet. You knew he would figure it out, having only shoved the hoodie in the back of your shirt for now. “Nothing.” You smiled, unable to meet Percy’s eyes without giving yourself away. His eyes always made you crack and fess up- but you were inching closer to the door of his cabin as he sent a playful glare your way, noticing the sleeve falling out of your shirt. “Oh no you don’t!” he exclaimed as he ran to you and shoved you into one of the bunk beds, careful enough that you wouldn’t hit your head. You laughed as you wrestled together. Percy pulled the hoodie out of your shirt, but he was so distracted in his victory that he didn’t react when you pinned him to the bed. Your breaths intermingled as you smiled at him, feeling warm from the wrestling. “Okay! You win.” he smiled as he held up his arms as well as he could. You smiled triumphantly as you grabbed the hoodie. “See you at dinner!” you yelled at him as you ran out of the cabin, leaving behind a very flustered Percy. Oh, if his hoodies made you this happy, he would for sure give you more.
'Cause you know just what to do
To make me forget that I'm so mad at you
And I can't help but hate you
'Cause I'm still in love with you
Even though you put me through hell
Percy sighed, hating the fact that he was unable to just guess what was wrong with you. He used to be able to do so- to look you over and just know. He barely knew who your other friends were just now. “Look,” you started and Percy’s heart skipped a beat as he saw the seriousness on your face, “I will- I just,” you seemed nervous, since when did he make you nervous? “I will just miss you, Perce. We’re all growing up and moving and-” you were starting to ramble but Percy interrupted your thoughts with a smile and a hand on your shoulder.
“I will miss you too! But we’ll just write to each other, and you can visit New Rome- and I’ll come here with Estelle!” his cheerfulness seemed to form a pit in your stomach- no you wanted to move on and once again he was stopping you from doing so, but was it really his fault? You had never truly confessed your feelings, all the ‘love you’s that were exchanged tinged with a platonic taste. If Percy knew of your feelings, he didn’t seem bothered, and how could he be? How could he know when you always tried to push him away? Put the hurt in his eyes when you tried to give back the last hoodie, when you tried to finally close the bond between the two of you that had stabbed you in the chest. This boy- this man had never done anything wrong to you as long as you knew him, and it hurt to try to let him go. You never wanted to harm Percy, you wanted to see his stupid smile as he talked about his days- as he talked about his love- as he pressed his hoodie back into your arms. You felt your resolve crumble, knowing fully well that this was on you as you smiled at him, Percy seemingly happy to return his stolen hoodies to you.
So maybe I'm the masochist
Maybe that's why I still miss your kiss
Not sure who I hate more
Me or you
You regretted going to the campfire today- you were still tired from the fight, and after the burial rites nobody seemed to be in a good mood. You had realized that, after Percy broke the hug and kissed Annabeth in front of you, that the boy you once thought was yours had truly gone and wouldn’t come back. You felt the heaviness in the air as your heart seemed to beg you to let out more tears. “How are you doing?” Percy sat down next to you and you looked him over, unconsciously avoiding looking at his face. Percy had hoped to make you feel a bit better, because he had noticed that you weren’t yourself- something was wrong and you avoiding his eyes only brought more certainty to his hypothesis. “I’m fine,” you looked into the fire.
“You’re not.” he simply stated, “I got you a gift.” you brought your gaze to him, as he gave you a hoodie. You smiled softly, unable to stop the tears coming out of your eyes. You had wanted to refuse- but you were unable to speak. “I saw how torn up yours was- I didn’t even know you still had that old one.” Percy let out a little laugh- one that was not soulless, but also not happy, “so, see this as the hoodie you are actually allowed to own.” You looked up and saw him smile, oh you were helpless. You pressed your lips closed as you shook your head. “Really Percy?” was all you got out before you felt more tears come up.
“So what’s wrong?” Percy repeated his question and you took a deep breath. “I-” your voice quivered, your brain quickly thinking of a way to tell him but not tell him, “I just lost-” your breath caught up in your throat and Percy wrapped one arm around you, pressing you into his chest. “It’s hard,” he whispered into your hair, “You’ll get through, and I will help you, okay? I’ll be there for you.” he promised and you nodded as you cried into the chest of the person you loved and lost, allowing yourself to feel like this a little longer.
'Cause I keep letting you wreck my mind
Seek the truth and you will find
I'm bad for me, oh
I'm bad for me
I'm bad for me, oh
I'm bad for me
I'm bad for me
I'm bad for me
I'm bad for me
I'm bad for me
I'm bad for me
----
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