#i might have a small amount of rage in my heart right now

[a060403]

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: R18, smutt, afab!reader, p in v, daddy!kink, overprotective, controlling, degradation, biting, bleeding, slapping, slight angst, explicit language, rough sex, overstimulation, not proofread, grammatical errors, oneshot

✒ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀/𝐍: Hello, I hope you enjoy this piece. I'm sorry for the grammatical errors ahead, English is not my first language but I do try to fix it.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈!!!

Miguel got home exhausted from a long day of work and just wanted to relax with his wife. He entered the house and noticed how dark it was and called for her but she didn't respond, so he called again; nothing.

He frowned, becoming concerned. He set down his things and walked through the house, calling for her again. “Y/N! Where are you?”

He went into their bedroom and found it empty as well. Panic starting to creep in, he quickly ran back out of the room and dialed her number on his phone. "The number you dialed is not—" he ended the call and tried over and over again. She's not picking up. He looked at the clock and saw that it was 10 p.m.

His heart started racing as he realized how late it was. He quickly grabbed his keys and phone, heading out the door. “Fuck!” He murmured under his breath as he raced towards her workplace, hoping she was still there when he arrived.

He got there quickly and his whole body went rigid when he heard that no one had seen her. She didn't even go there in the first place. He drove back home and saw the inside of their house lit. He felt a small amount of hope that it might be her so he parked his car quickly and entered. She was not in the living room, so he ran his way to their bedroom and there she was. She was taking off her clothes and rummaging through their closet to find her pajamas for the night.

He stood by the door and felt relieved that she was home but his anger was quick to take over. “Where have you been?! I was worried sick about you!” His voice trembled with fear and concern as he pulled her into a hug. She was surprised and hugged him back. “I went out.”

Miguel pulled away from her, his eyes flashing with anger. “Out?! At this hour?! With no one knowing where you are?!” He shook his head in disbelief, turning away to pace the room again.

“Miguel, I'm fine. See?” She stood up. “I lost track of time so I didn't know.” He stopped pacing and turned back to face her, a hard line forming between his eyebrows. “You could have been hurt! Something could have happened to you!” His voice was stern and cold, mirroring the look in his eyes.

“Amor, I'm okay.” She walked towards him, cupping his face with both her hands. “I'm okay.”

He tried to pull away from her, but she held on tightly. “Don't "Amor" me right now! You scared the living shit out of me!”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before turning his back on her. “I need you to understand how dangerous that was.” His voice softened slightly as he looked into her eyes intently.

“And I do, okay? I went out to visit a friend today and I lost track of time.” She reasoned, still speaking softly as before. “I should've called but I didn't. I'm sorry.”

He turned back around, anger flaring up in his eyes once again. “You're not sorry! Do you know how worried I was? How could you be so irresponsible and put yourself in danger like that?” He yelled at her, shaking with rage as he pointed a finger in her face. “I'm sorry.” She spoke softly, knowing that it was pointless to match his frustration right now and also because she was in fact at fault.

Miguel took a deep breath, trying to control his anger. “Fine. You're going to stay here from now on until I say otherwise. Understood?” His voice was stern and cold as he turned away once again.

“What? No! You can't do that. Look, I understand my mistake but that's too much.”

He turned back around, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. “Do you think I'm playing around? You put yourself in danger and now I need to make sure it doesn't happen again.”

“I understand but not letting me out? This isn't prison Miguel, this is our home. You're not doing that.”

Miguel crossed his arms over his chest, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Oh? And who's going to stop me from keeping you locked up like the irresponsible and reckless woman that you are?” His eyes darkened with possession as he stepped closer to her.

She scoffed. “Miguel, I know my mistake and I've apologized. Keeping me here is absurd.”

Miguel reached out, grabbing her chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger. “Absurd? Do you think this is absurd? What about how it feels to know that you could have been hurt or worse because of your carelessness?!” His voice rose in anger as he held her gaze defiantly.

“But I'm okay, aren't I? I made it home. I wouldn't have done it if it wasn't safe and I was.”

“I'm okay. I'm safe.” She added.

Miguel pulled her closer, his lips curling into a sneer. “Yes, you're okay. For now. But that doesn't change the fact that your actions put yourself in danger and caused me unimaginable worry. And as long as I can't trust you to take care of yourself, you will be staying here where I know you're safe.”

His voice was cruel and unforgiving as he stared down at her with a possessive glare. He saw the tears welling up in her eyes and his heart hardened even more. He wasn't going to be taken advantage of like this.

“Don't you dare cry, Y/N. I'm not gonna fall for that. What you did was stupid and irresponsible.” He pushed her away gently but firmly. “Go take a shower and get ready for bed. We'll discuss this further tomorrow when you've had some time to cool off.”

While Y/N was in the shower, Miguel sat down on their bed with his back against the headboard. He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down from earlier. He opened his eyes as he felt her presence in the room. He didn't turn to look at her, instead choosing to continue staring straight ahead. “Come here.”

She made her way to him, not making eye contact. He took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look up at him. “Do you understand the consequences of your actions?”

“Yes.” She spoke in a near-whisper.

He let out a sigh, feeling slightly satisfied with her answer. “Good. Now get in bed.”

Miguel closed his eyes, trying to relax despite the tension in the room. He couldn't help but feel possessive and protective over his wife, even though he tried to hide it. She decided to lay with her back facing him. He hated how he could hear the soft sobs coming from her, he turned to see how her body was slightly trembling, trying her best to not let him hear her cry.

He turned to look at her, his heart melting despite himself. “Y/N... don't cry. It's not worth your tears,” He reached out and pulled her closer, gently brushing the tears from her cheeks. “I know you didn't mean any harm by what you did earlier. Get some sleep, okay? We can talk more in the morning when we're both calm.”

He nuzzled his nose in her neck inhaling her scent. 𝘽𝙞𝙜 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚. “Miguel what are you—” The smell of her skin invaded his system, stirring his cock awake. The feeling of her soft body made his body hot. He hated how much he was craving for her right now. How he needs a release. His rough hands caressed her skin, making her body tingle.

She let out quiet whimpers of pleasure as Miguel went down on her. His teeth graze her skin and leave marks all over her body. She felt how her underwear was beginning to get soaked from all this heat.

Feeling how Y/N's body reacts to his touch, Miguel pushes aside her nightgown and positions himself at her entrance. He thrust deep inside of her with one smooth motion, filling her. “This is what you do to me... this fear of losing you. It drives me so fucking insane.” He trapped her beneath him as he began to move slowly within her.

“Miguel—ow!” She cried, but he didn't stop nor did he care. He picked up the pace and started ramming in and out of her hard, rough. Like he wanted her to feel his pain.

His movements became more forceful, fueled by his possessive desire for her. He couldn't help but feel like he was claiming what was rightfully his. “You did this... you made a mistake and I'm gonna make sure you learn from it.” His thrusts grew harder and deeper as he continued pounding into her with unrelenting fervor.

Her nails dug deep into his skin, enough to make them bleed. She bit his shoulder to suppress a moan. Her lips shudder with bliss at how she loves the roughness he's giving her. How her cunt always begged to be abused by him and how she would beg for it. “More, Miguel, please—”

Feeling her response to his touch, Miguel lost control entirely. He pinned both of her wrists above her head with one hand while using the other to roughly squeeze and play with her breasts.

“Look at you. You look like a fucking whore.”

“Fucking bitch, you like this?” He slaps her. “You like it like this?” His thrusts became even harder as he continued to dominate their fucking session. “Go on baby, beg. Fucking beg Daddy to take care of this needy little pussy. Beg Daddy to punish you.”

“Yes,” She frantically pled, her hips bucking onto his dick. “Please, Daddy… Fuck my pussy good!”

Hearing her submit to him and use the word "Daddy" only served to further fuel his possessive desires. He slapped her again and grabbed her by the neck, he growled low in his throat as he slammed into Y/N with all of his might. “Apologize. Say you're sorry for making Daddy worried.”

“Daddy fuck—” She gasped. His dick successfully hitting all her sensitive spots, fucking her stupid. “I'm sorry! I-I'm sorryyy.”

Miguel's movements became even more erratic, his anger and lust combining to create a violent yet exhilarating experience for both of them. “You're so fucking tight—fuck.” He bit down on her neck hard enough to leave a bruise before pulling out of her wet sex and coming all over her stomach in long hot bursts.

As he pulled out of Y/N, he didn't miss the sight of his cum dripping down her belly, how she ran her fingers on her cum covered stomach. He felt a small twinge of satisfaction at how thoroughly he had claimed her.

“Clean yourself up. We have an early morning tomorrow.”

He rolled off of her, leaving her to clean herself while he tried to regain some semblance of composure in the darkness. He chose to sleep in their guest bedroom that night, afraid of what his body might do to her. He resents the idea of how vulnerable he is to her tricks, how her moan can stir him awake in an instant, how her touch can make his body burn.

Miguel didn't sleep much that night, his mind filled with thoughts of Y/N and their intense encounter. He was both aroused and unsettled by how deeply she affected him.

𝐀/𝐍: I do not own any of the pictures and are solely from Pinterest.

[forgeofthenine]

This isn’t even what I wanted to write for Rolan but the nonnie yesterday who sent in that heart breaking ask about if you died fed my plot bunnies so this took over my brain until it was done lol.

For my own mental health while writing this, Cal and Lia have been rescued at this point. I don’t think even Karlach could stop a Rolan who thinks he really has lost everyone. -🪻

~~~~~~~

You’d died before. Most adventures had. The first time, most people tend to understandably panic. It’s not a small thing to wrap your head around, that you’d been here and then not for a moment before you were brought back. One scroll (or one spell from your cleric if you have the diamonds to spend.) and you’re back good as new if not a little worse for wear. Eventually, after it happens enough, you start to get used to it. The window of time for a revivification is so small that death never really has the time to settle in your bones, you don’t feel its cold grip seeping into your soul. You start to get reckless, after all, you’ve always been able to come right back should you fall.

But not this time.

Rolan is at the Last Light, sitting at one of the tables near the entrance with a drink in hand watching Cal and Lia argue animatedly over some ridiculous thing or another. He’d thought about stopping them for the sake of preventing a headache later from their shouting but quickly put that thought out of mind when he realized their nonsense was more a show for the children than anything else. So he bit his tongue and stifled a smile, lest the children realize he can be anything more than a grump.

His seat also gives him the best view of the waystone by the bridge. You didn’t always have time to stop by the Inn and chat with him on your way to your nearby camp but if he could at least see you return safely then his heart could rest easy until you spoke next. It was late in the day already, so you and your group should be returning any moment

As if the gods heard him, at that moment the waypoint flared to life and brought your party back. Two, Gale and Karlach split off immediately towards the inn, while Astarion ran at full speed to your camp carrying something in his arms. He looked around for you and felt the dread sink into his chest when you were nowhere to be found and realization began to dawn. That hadn’t been something Astarion was carrying, it was someone.

Gale and Karlach reach him just as he reaches that horrifying conclusion and begins to rise. Each of them putting a hand somewhere on his person, whether to ground him or restrain him he wasn’t sure. The inn begins to quiet at that, everyone around them taking in their drawn and somber expressions as they look at him. Karlach speaks first, softly as though she’s trying to keep him from falling apart. Though by the look on her face she might also be trying to prevent herself from going to pieces. “It’s going to be okay, there’s someone at our camp who can help. But right now the best thing you can do is to stay here, okay?”

Almost immediately, that cold dread that’s filling him is replaced with a white hot rage. How dare they try to hold him back when they’re partially to blame for what happened. When they’re the ones who didn’t do enough to prevent this from happening. Dimly, he recognizes that not a small amount of this anger is misplaced, after all, these same people he was furious with now had at least been there. They’d tried to stop what happened from happening. They’d had to watch as you fell. All the while, he’d been here, warm and comfortable, drinking and laughing like a fool.

And just like that the warmth of his anger leaves him again and he’s once again overtaken by cold fear. He doesn’t even realize he’s sat down again, or that nearly everyone in the inn is looking at their group with a touch of that same fear. You were supposed to be invincible, this great irritating hero that somehow manages to put off the epic deeds you set yourself to. You weren’t supposed to fall.

Karlach is still sitting with him, Gale has gone over to Jaheira to fill her on what happened. He sees her face harden and then she gives a short nod. She commands the Harpers to gather and she gives orders to increase patrols on certain areas. He must have made a face because Karlach’s soft voice breaks through the fog he’s in again to explain, “We ran into needle-blights, three separate groups. Nasty fuckers if you haven’t had the pleasure. A pain to kill, since they’re tough as nails and the damn things explode when they do finally die. We were all a bit too close when the last few went down after Gale’s fireball but…”. He doesn’t need her to finish, he can almost picture what happened. You were no doubt right in the middle of everything and got caught up in the chain reaction. You probably told them to do it too, you and your stupid self sacrificing ways. By the time anyone was able to get near, it would have been far too late.

Karlach and Gale both look abruptly in the same direction, before they walk off, Karlach pulling him with her as she strode away. “Wha-“ he starts to stammer. “It’s all okay now, Withers worked his magic.” Karlach says, a bit less tense and with far less heaviness in her eyes. Before he can ask another question, namely “Who is Withers??”, they’ve activated the waypoint and he’s in your camp with them.

Shadowheart and Halsin are beside you just outside your tent and are working to try and ease the ache of a proper resurrection as best they can. You look up and see him there and try and give a smile but what you manage to give him is small and shaky and makes you look damn near to tears. Your hands are shaking in your lap where they rest and he runs over and drops to sit as out of the way as he can while still being beside you. His hands reach out and stop as if he’s not sure if you’re stable enough for contact yet. The two healers finish what they can and leave, giving you both some kind of privacy. Really the whole camp can’t bear to take their eyes off you for a moment, in case you fall again, in case the magic doesn’t hold and you slip away.

You look at Rolan and your lip trembles and that’s all it takes for him to wrap you in his arms as tight as he can and you sob. You cry like a child experiencing true fear for the first time and he holds you. He rocks you back and forth and holds you together as you fall apart. And if he’s crying too who has the nerve to say anything. He presses his lips to your temple and holds you tighter. He shifts you both inside your tent as your sobbing slows and sits so he’s leaning against something, and just holds you as you calm. When you fall asleep in his arms, he repositions you both, pausing before he lays down to remove his boots and outer robes with all its irritating bits. He lays down beside you in just his breeches and shirt and pulls you back into him to sleep. He doesn’t know what dreams or nightmares one has after dying, but he can’t imagine they’ll be pleasant.

Because whatever else comes, at least for right now, he will be there at your side to face it.

Flower anon, have I told you recently how much I love you?

This makes me feel SO MANY FEELINGS-

It doesn't help that you somehow managed to pick the exact team my original Tav ran with for almost the entire game/final battle. I just want to kiss Rolan until he feels better and keep him in my pocket so he never feels bad again. This was glorious as always and I love getting your fics in my inbox ♥️

[loukaiitis]

Notes and Journal Entries by Kip Kinkel

A compilation of writings by Kip Kinkel. This is for informational and educational purposes only. Post is below the cut.

Disclaimer: the majority of his writing pieces (that have been released to the public) are only available in a typed transcript format, provided by PBS. Because of this, I am only able to include a few images of the original writing. This post will be updated if any new images come out!

Journal Entry by Kip:

"I sit here all alone. I am always alone. I don't know who I am. I want to be something I can never be. I try so hard every day. But in the end, I hate myself for what I've become.

Every single person I know means nothing to me. I hate every person on this earth. I wish they could all go away. You all make me sick. I wish I was dead.

The only reason I stay alive is because of hope. Even though I am repulsive and few people know who I am, I still feel that things might, maybe, just a little bit, get better.

I don't understand any fucking person on this earth. Some of you are so weak, mainly, that a four year old could push you down. I am strong, but my head just doesn't work right. I know I should be happy with what I have, but I hate living.

Every time I talk to her, I have a small amount of hope. But then she will tear it right down. It feels like my heart is breaking. But is that possible. I am so consumed with hate all of the time. Could I ever love anyone? I have feelings, but do I have a heart that's not black and full of animosity?

I know everyone thinks this way sometimes, but I am so full of rage that I feel I could snap at any moment. I think about it everyday. Blowing the school up or just taking the easy way out, and walk into a pep assembly with guns. In either case, people that are breathing will stop breathing. That is how I will repay all you mother fuckers for all you put me through.

I feel like everyone is against me, but no one ever makes fun of me, mainly because they think I am a psycho. There is one kid above all others that I want to kill. I want nothing more than to put a hole in his head. The one reason I don't: Hope. That tomorrow will be better. As soon as my hope is gone, people die.

I ask myself why I hate more than anyone else. I don't know. But my head and heart want him dead. He only knows who I am through reputation, and I know he is scared of me. He should be. One bad day, and there will be a sawed off shotgun in his face or five pounds of Semtex under his bed.

Oh fuck. I sound so pitiful. People would laugh at this if they read it. I hate being laughed at. But they won't laugh after they're scraping parts of their parents, sisters, brothers, and friends from the wall of my hate.

Please. Someone, help me. All I want is something small. Nothing big. I just want to be happy.

End. New day. Today of all days, I ask her to help me. I was shot down. I feel like my heart has been ripped open and ripped apart. Right now, I'm drunk, so I don't know what the hell is happening to me.

It is clear that no one will help me. Oh God, I am so close to killing people. So close.

I gave her all I have, and she just threw it away. Why? Why did God just want me to be in complete misery? I need to find more weapons. My parents are trying to take away some of my guns! My guns are the only things that haven't stabbed me in the back.

My eyes hurt. They hurt so bad. They feel like they are trying to crawl out of my head. Why aren't I normal? Help me. No one will. I will kill every last mother fucking one of you. The thought of you is still racing in my head. I am too drunk to make sense.

Every time I see your face, my heart is shot with an arrow. I think she will say yes, but she doesn't, does she? She says, "I don't know". The three most fucked up words in the English language.

I want you to feel this, be this, taste this, kill this. Kill me. Oh God, I don't want to live. Will I see it to the end? What kind of dad would I make? All humans are evil. I just want to end the world of evil.

I don't want to see, hear, speak or feel evil, but I can't help it. I am evil. I want to kill and give pain without a cost. And there is no such thing. We kill him - we killed him a long time ago. Anyone that believes in God is a fucking sheep.

If there was a God, he wouldn't let me feel the way I do. ....Love isn't real, only hate remains. Only hate."

Essay about love, written by Kip

"Love Sucks

No, I don't believe in love at first sight because love is an evil plot to make people buy alcohol and firearms. When you love someone something it is always taken away from you. I also would like to add that I hate each and every one of you. Because everything I touch turns to shit. I think if you think you fall in love with someone at first sight it might just be lust. Love at first sight is only in movies. Where the people in the movies are better than you. That is why you go to a pone [pawn] shop and buy an AK-15 because you are going to execute every last mother fucking one of you. If I had a heart it would be gray.

It is easier to hate than love. Because there is much more hate and misery in the world than there is love and peace. Some people say that you should love everyone. But that is impossible. Look at our history it is full of death, depression, rape, wars and diseases. I also do not believe in love at first sight. But I do believe in hate at first sight. Therefore love is a much harder feeling to experience."

Monologue written by Kip for a homework assignment. This monologue was written for the character Tybalt of Romeo and Juliet.

"But you know me, I loathe all of them. I am no longer blind in my hatred, I can see with my hate. Blood will flow until they are all dead. This was the first moment in my life where I had taken the life of another. I loved it. It dispelled all the anger and animosity I was feeling."

Note written by Kip, confessing to the murder of his parents. This was found on a coffee table in the living room of the Kinkel's home.

"I have just killed my parents! I don't know what is happening. I love my mom and dad so much. I just got two felonies on my record. My parents can't take that! It would destroy them. The embarrassment would be too much for them. They couldn't live with themselves. I'm so sorry. I am a horrible son. I wish I had been aborted. I destroy everything I touch. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I didn't deserve them. They were wonderful people. It's not their fault or the fault of any person, organization, or television show. My head just doesn't work right. God damn these VOICES inside my head. I want to die. I want to be gone. But I have to kill people. I don't know why. I am so sorry! Why did God do this to me. I have never been happy. I wish I was happy. I wish I made my mother proud. I am nothing! I tried so hard to find happiness. But you know me I hate everything. I have no other choice. What have I become? I am so sorry"

A concerning note written by Kip on a Spanish worksheet

Another concerning note by Kip

"Respect Sheet" filled out by Kip

[xr0tt3nxfl3shx]

👁💊My Medicine is underdeveloped and my Amygdala won't work.💉👁

Twomp[AU] fanfiction + art !! Pertains to the events in this post. [No beta we die.]

⚠️‼️TW: VOMITING / OVERDOSE / SUICIDAL IDEATION / UNREALITY / CORRUPT MENTAL HEALTH SYSTEM / GENERAL MENTAL ILLNESS THEMES‼️⚠️

A/N: i didnt wanna mention it tbh but just in case, ive been down the chemical consumption road 3 times, an i mention because i know the internet has opinions on mental illness in writing. But ive been there myself. All up close and personal like. so i think i can speak on it (dont castrate me)

POV: 👁Argos👁

I scratch at my skin in the dark of my room as if that'll hold in the tears from spilling over my burning red cheeks. The feeling of rage and overwhelming depression clash within me, and leave me to switch every few minutes between cursing the name of every therapist who ever told me that "I'm not even trying to get better" and crying over the idea that they might be right.

My heartbeat is so vigorous that it feels like at any moment the tendons will tear away and my heart will burst in my ribs. How could anyone say that to me? I seethe and hiss through my gritting teeth. Why can't I get better? I cry enough to fill an ocean and nearly drown in my tears.

I should be able to control all of this by now, I'm not a child. Yet, I can't stop thinking about putting the heads of those who hurt me on a platter. Or banging my head on my bedroom wall hard enough to dull the heartbreak. My eyes are running dry from all the tears, I've been at this for a while. My head is pounding from the adrenaline. All reasonable thoughts are drowned out, with intrusive and irrational ones taking the place of my internal voice of reason.

I can make it better, I can make this better. I just need to try a little harder! Just.. go a little further. These feelings, it's just a chemical imbalance right?

I'm running out of options, types of therapy, pills, at this point I might as well just get a lobotomy. I'm sure my therapist would like that.

There's still time to make this right. I don't have to end my life to end my suffering right?

I can prove them wrong. I will prove them wrong. It's just a chemical imbalance. I just need to fix it.

I rummage through the medicine cabinet above my bathroom sink, overlooking the blood crusting around the drain. There has to be something in here that can make my head stop pounding or my thoughts quiet down if not for just a little while. Maybe everything all at once? Yeah that should do!

Laid out in front of me on the cold tiled floor of my bathroom are various pill bottles. The amount of pills actually in them is varied, they like to switch my meds every other week it seems. I try to be hasty with this, pouring out a small handful of gel capsules into my hand. Each one smooth, glossy, and slightly cool to the touch.

You know, I've been here before, and typically there's some survival instinct in me, paralyzing my hands before I can do any damage. But all I can feel is anguish. And anger. And there's no more room for self preservation in me.

I take my first dose before I can come down from my emotion fueled adrenaline rush. Quickly now don't let the self preservation come back. I take my next dose of a new pill type, a tablet. It was a bad idea doing this dry but oh well!

Before I know it I'm slumped against my bathroom door, unable to continue my self medication on account of the mounds of pills I dry swallowed having begun triggering my gag reflex. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't anxious about this, but it had to be done. My therapist is always urging me to take steps in the right direction!

(Though admittedly he never mentioned which direction is the right one.)

I make it back to my bed, dragging my feet and leaning on the wall for support the whole way. It's not even five minutes in when I start to feel the effects. I probably should've eaten before taking my pills like the instructions say.

This is different though, I feel my connection to reality slip right through my jittery fingers. Like the shadows in my room are divulging their presence. Like they are reaching out their hands, ready to take hold of me, pull me in and make me one with unreality. An emptiness overcomes me, something I've truly never felt before. And it's the strangest thing, because simultaneously I've never felt more alive in my life.

Everything is really funny, I've never noticed how funny everything is up until now. Every little unorganized thought that pops up in my foggy, spacing-out head manages to get a strained laugh out of me.

Visual snow floods my peripheral, the colors of the world begin to become one with the static in my eyes.

Ah, I remembered what I was going to do in here. I need to call Mr. Plant. I need him to know that I'm going to get better, and how much I love him of course. Oh he'll never understand just how much I love him! I love him to death, haha! Literally.

I dial in the number. Moving has proven difficult, like trying to control a vehicle while tired and out of it, or in my case trying to control a vehicle through the most debilitating brain fog I've ever experienced. The disconnection from body and thought is almost calming.

The ringing of the phone is such a funny thing as well. I could lose myself in the methodical rhythm and loose vibrations running up my hands- oh look here he's answered!

"M‐r… plant! I ha-ve.. s o me thi.. ng to tell you."

I am fighting to get the words out. The weak sounds I manage to get out of my raspy throat come out in uneven tones with jarring stutters. Why is it so hard to speak?

"I took.. a lot o-f... my me-ds. Ha-ha!" He hangs up immediately.

Is he not happy for me? It wasn't long before I heard sirens closing in. Did he call the cops on me? That's no fair, no fair at all.

I've never been rolled into the back of an ambulance on a stretcher before but there's a first time for everything I suppose. It's too bad I'm too out of it to really experience it.

In the ambulance is when the first wave of nausea hits. I could barely even feel the EMT insert the IV or hear when they asked me questions.

———

The heart palpitations do their diligence distracting from the perforations left in my arm from the injections of various medications and the IV drip.

My respiration is just as irregular as my heart's chemical damaged rhythm. I feel like I'm drowning in this heavy air and it feels like the knots in my stomach have spread to my heart. This pain is so unbearable that I feel the need to crave it out of myself with a blade.

The world is doubling- no tripling, blurring, and mushing together all at once. I can feel the hum of the fluorescent hospital light buzz through my head. The scent of rubbing alcohol and sterilized equipment is evident throughout the cold medical facility.

By my own hands I've made my body a place unsuitable for living. I've "almost drugged myself to an early grave" as the hospital staff keep reminding me.

Speaking of body, I can no longer tell where I end and the wires of the EKG machine begin. Neuropathy has set in and nerve sensation has dulled for the most part, except in my stomach and heart where it hurts the most of course. But me and the machines they have me hooked up to might as well be one as long as they are taking the place of my dysfunctional body systems.

When they run the EKG scan, which they do about every half hour, they ask me to stay as still as I can, but it's hard to control the shaking when I don't know where it comes from in the first place. I'm by no means cold, or if I am I really can't feel it.

Have I mentioned the shaking? The tremors? I need to grow accustomed to the flavor of raw stomach acid soon, because that's all I've been throwing up anymore. It's all that's left.

The nausea begins to build all over again, like my stomach is writhing and contorting in my torso. I can feel the knots being tied. Over the next few minutes it builds and builds, I'd do anything to stop the encroaching bile now. The nausea completely overwhelms my senses right before another round of the most violent retching I've ever experienced. Accompanied by the most awful squelching and splattering sounds as it hits the rest of vomit already resting at the bottom of the bag.

I feel like I'm nearing being turned inside out everytime it happens. And I've filled yet another vomit bag. This isn't going to stop for days as the doctor told me. I doubt I'll get the luxury of unconsciousness.

The activated charcoal they gave me to drink is like this black sludge, "slow and steady now, don't drink so fast you throw it all up but not so slow that you succumb to the consequences of your own actions." Well maybe that's not what they really said but it's how it felt. I can tell the staff are judging me, I just know it! They think I deserve this.

At least the charcoal is cherry flavored.

My many eyes dart around the clean and pristine hospital room erratically, glancing off in every direction. I don't want anyone to look at me anymore. I can't stand the buzz of the lights and I can barely bring myself to move enough to blink. Or even move enough to breathe. I am much too dizzy and light-headed to even consider standing up. I'm so dizzy I could swear I'm phasing in and out of my body. The only thing keeping my consciousness bound to this body is the unending pain ancoring me in the reality of my situation.

It's growing increasingly unbearable.

Above all else I am losing my mind trying to figure out where I went wrong tonight. These chemicals were supposed to fix all these feelings. The pills were supposed to fix me. My psychiatrists and therapists all told me that I'm sick, disordered, and all I needed was to buy a few more medicines.

It must be my fault, it must be if hundreds of milligrams of mood stabilizers can't just make it better.

Tell me, anyone tell me, why I'm so useless that I can't even help myself?

Why am I so worthless that my medicine won't work on me?

I am almost entirely suspended in unreality. The prozac, olanzapine, mirtazapine, and everything other useless drug they gave me were meant to cure me. I've tried everything!

I've done the very most I can to try and make the bad thoughts quiet down. And are the thoughts that tell me "I'd be better dead", my own thoughts, or a symptom of one of my diagnoses?

Is the reason I'm like this the same reason I don't deserve love, or do I not deserve love because I'm like this? I want to get better. I swear I really do.

So why does no one believe me?

"Sir, you have a visitor." The nurse informs me in a harsh yet hush tone.

The words barely make it through my chemical head. I'm practically catatonic in this hospital bed. But when I do process them I pray to every divine that it is who I think it is.

Red petals on the top and bottom, two yellow petals, one pink and one blue. I was right!

I can't believe he came all the way down to this void to come see me. I really thought he'd stay home. I don't think anyone or anything could possibly understand the pure desperation I feel coursing through my veins. Right alongside the saline they're using to flush my IV of course.

My boyfriend entered my hospital room, #34 I believe, I saw when they rolled me in on the stretcher. Tears well up in my dried eyes, I couldn't feel enough of anything to cry while drugged out of my head but seeing him, well, I need him more than I have ever needed anyone before.

The look on his face when he saw me is one I didn't know he was capable of, pure horror even. I must look horrible stained with my own bile in these itchy hospital scrubs. He is quick to clasp my hand in his and rub along my knuckles and the back of my palm. Through the blurred vision and tears I can't even make him out anymore but I don't need to, I just need his touch. I need it so badly.

I have no depth perception at the moment, or hand eye coordination, and again everything is quite blurry so it was mostly unintentional when I pulled him in by the sweater. He leans into me and wraps his arms under my upper back, holding me against his chest.

He's warm against me, holding me gently in a hospital bed. I can't feel much at all other than the pain, his warmth was the only other sensation I could pin down in my head. It was such a harsh contrast from how I normally see him acting.

With him so close I can't tell where he ends and I begin this time. Even in one of my most painful moments, I feel a familiar comfort in my palpitating heart. He's the only thing keeping me from going entirely mad. He has no idea what I'd give to melt into him right here right now, become an amalgamated abomination of our half hazardly bonded flesh and bone. I'm afraid I'd ruin him and all his perfection with me and all my misshapen and grotesqueness.

I am especially disgusting as of now, making him worry about me like this. Can I not be horrible for just one second? Selfish, that's it. I must be selfish. I take another go at speaking a moment after we pull away. All I can muster is an apology that comes out more like a pathetic stammer through my tears.

The way his cold gaze met mine shook me. I've never seen real tears stream down his face. He looks so... distraught. Its like he's looking right through me and simultaneously looking directly at me. And on top of everything I've never seen him sign so frantically. He rarely signs at all.

"Please don't be sorry."

…

"Don't strain your voice."

"Just stay right there, okay? Do you need anything?"

"I'll get you anything, I'd do anything for you."

I knew he cared about me, but I guess I never realized just how much. Or maybe I just forgot. How horrible am I?

Is it possible I'm actually worth something to him? Worth enough for him to call me an ambulance, worth enough for him to comfort me in the hospital bed, worth enough for him to cry over me?

Was I really worth staying with all this time?

My thoughts are interrupted by another round of retching, it seems those knots in my stomach weren't just anxiety. Mr. Plant holds my hand through it. I'm gonna be here a while, I know that. But he's here with me, and from the looks of it he isn't leaving my side anytime soon.

I'll make it out alive, not for myself, just for him. And for the possibility that maybe he needs me just as much as I need him. I wish my mind wasn't so scrambled, so I could find the words to express just how much I love him.

I love you Mr. Plant.

[therulerofallpotatos]

Wyler Fanfiction Rec List Part 2

For @ourloveisdahliaoh, here’s part 2 of that rec list I said I’d make.

My Monster by Wyler4Lifer

Summary: None

Words: 3,721 Chapters: 2/? Rated: E

There’s no summary for this fic and it breaks my heart that it might be overlooked because it is so much fun. I’ve talked about how delightful this fic is to my friends irl and how much fun it is to see Gomez pick up himself a pet hyde and Wednesday to find Tyler fucking Galpin in her house being dressed like a purse dog by her father who is excited about his new beast. The family meeting and harboring Tyler is so good.

Who is in Control? by green_writer

Summary: “Please, flattery will get you nowhere,” Wednesday says, holding her ground as he stalks towards her.

Tyler grips her lapels, jostling her roughly forward. She watches his face, the Hyde lurking just underneath the surface, wonders how much control he has, how much of the boy she met at the Weathervane is still there. She’s reminded of the last time he got up in her face like this, gloating about his kills at the Sherriff’s office. The rage that his little monologue had inspired deep in her gut. That he could deceive her so easily, not just covering his own tracks but misguiding her towards a wholehearted conviction that Xavier was the Hyde. She had felt stupid and small and entirely disgusted with herself. He would have to pay.

----

What if Wednesday, not Enid, had gone against Tyler in the woods in episode 8?

Or - How to Discipline Your Hyde 101.

Words: 10,781 Chapters: 3/3 Rated: E

I’m sorry. Did you say smut? Because this is 3 chapters full of Wednesday fucking Tyler from the cockroach scene onwards. green_writer understood the fucking assignment. 100/10. Will read again.

Friendly Neighborhood Phantom by ThatOneAntiHero

Summary: Strange murders, a mysterious ghost boy, a missing teenager, and numerous suspects.

Maybe Wednesday Addams was going to stay at Nevermore longer than she expected.

Words: 8,447 Chapters: 3/? Rated: M

I swear i felt like the three spidermen meme when i saw this. I had just rediscovered “Sex with a ghost” and had thought of my own haunting au and then i read this and i’m so happy. It’s dead amnesiac tyler investigating with Wednesday who can see him and it’s amazing. I’m on the edge of my seat waiting for the next chapter.

Kiss Me Before It’s Too Late by JHoeUNeed2Stop

Summary:  Tyler & Wednesday's last encounter told differently.

More spicy.

Words: 2,090 Chapters: 1/1 Rated: M

It’s another cockroach scene where Enid doesn’t cockblock and I am having such a good time with each and every one of them. JHoe is making the world a better place.

my unconquerable soul by melpomenemuse

Summary: “Who is your master?” she asks dispassionately. 

Wednesday doesn’t care who Tyler’s master is. An objective part of her does, the one that wants a satisfactory conclusion to her novel, but the only thing she cares about right now is this: Tyler has a master.

And it isn’t her.

Or: an insight into Wednesday and Tyler’s relationship through the season finale and post Season 1.

Words: 16,983 Chapters: 13/? Rated: M

The amount of want between these two is delicious. Wednesday seething at the idea that Laurel touched him first is just *chef’s kiss*

Tipsy Truth Telling by Realmermaid333

Summary: Wednesday never thought she’d get drunk, she thought being drunk was for immature fools who couldn’t control themselves— that was until she went to Yoko’s party. 

Words: 2,675 Chapters: 1/1 Rated: T

This is just fun. It’s so much fun. @realmermaid333 is such a gift and I’m so happy I got the privilege of encouraging this in the server. Drunk Wednesday is exactly what I need to brighten my day with some silly little low stakes shenanigans.

Finding Dr. Jekyll by its2014again

Summary: “A Hyde is just a puppet, their mind brainwashed by the puppet-master. To reverse the damage, you have to delve into their subconscious. You have to find the Jekyll beneath the Hyde."

After 30 days in prison, Tyler still won't talk. He won't talk to his father, to the doctors, or to his therapist. Maybe this has something to do with being chained to a chair - or maybe it's because the only person he will speak to... is Wednesday.

Words: 8,154 Chapters: 5/? Rated: NR

Riddles and brainwashing and attraction oh my! The latest chapter had me on the edge of my seat and i highly recommend you all read this fic to see exactly what I mean

a crack run down right the front of me by Morbidmuch

Summary: Tyler's teeth are bright in his paint-splattered face.

“Red looks good on you.”Wednesday doesn't know what to reply when he says things like that: things like I mean it, Wednesday, you look beautiful and I knew there was a reason I liked you. It's all too much and the stone walls protecting her center quiver. Traitors.

Words: 2,194 Chapters: 1/1 Rated: T

what a wonderful dance au and there’s talking and emotions and Wednesday being Wednesday.

the simulation we’re dreaming in by angelconstellations

Summary: If the blood-paint hadn't rained and the dance had continued...

Set during ep 4. What might have happened if the prank didn't happen and Wednesday didn't have her vision to go after Eugene.

Words: 1,789 Chapters: 1/1 Rated: T

a what if they actually finished their date at the dance au and i love it to pieces.

Ennui vs. Wednesday Addams by Klyson

Summary: Tyler had always known he was better than everyone else. He couldn’t make it a reality yet, but someday he’d get out of this backwater hellhole called Jericho and make himself great.

His mother’s death throws a bit of a wrench in his plans, and so does the beast he can morph into and the woman who dares call herself his “master”. She will die for that… someday. Until then, though, at least she isn’t boring.

And then Wednesday Addams comes barreling into his life.

Or

Tyler is a sociopath or something and Wednesday is much more interesting than Laurel Gates.

Words: 15,821 Chapters: 3/6 Rated: E

This is one of my absolute favorites. Seeing Tyler growing up and meeting Wednesday? I love leaning more into the “sociopath finds love” plot. it’s a favorite au of mine.

[contreparry]

happy friday ann!! from the couple prompts -- “All my choices lead me to you.” for whatever pair inflates your heart tonight. 😊

Here's some Dorian/Iron Bull for @dadrunkwriting!

Dorian didn't believe in fate.

It was all a load of shit, really. It was ridiculous to think that any being would have their entire future planned to the letter, that free will and the mortal soul meant nothing when compared to the cosmos' grand plans. And beyond all that, when Dorian was being particularly honest and maudlin, a single mortal soul held little importance compared to the enormity of all of time and space. In short, fate was bullshit, and fate held no power over him.

But choice, however... now that was an entirely different matter.

"It's an interesting philosophical conversation," Dorian drawled out as he stretched out languorously in Bull's bed. "At least, it is when you're a youth of fourteen and think that all of your thoughts are profound nuggets of wisdom."

Bull snorted, his rumbling laugh vibrating through Dorian's body, and he lazily nudged Dorian's side with his elbow. "Oh? Let me guess, you were a deeply profound boy, eh?" Dorian choked down a chuckle and turned his head to hide his grin. It had been so long since he had been teased in this way, a gentle ribbing with no bite to it, and Dorian was shocked to learn that he missed the ease and comfort of conversations when he didn't have to wield each word like a knife.

"Naturally," Dorian replied. "But truly. To think, if perhaps I went left instead of right one day, we could have met years ago." To know that they resided in the same city at the same time, and that they frequented the same taverns- truly it was a bizarre run of luck that they had never run into each other before this entire mess. Bull shifted beside him, stretched his arms up until they rested behind his head, and stared up as the afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows.

"Might have been for the best that we didn't run into each other, all things considered," Bull mused. "Wasn't exactly a friendly person back then." And Dorian could well believe it: a spy in Tevinter wasn't going to take any risks, and they weren't there to make friends in any case.

"And I had a worse mouth on me, if you can believe it," Dorian said. "And no filter." When he wasn't lost in his cups he was causing no small amount of chaos amongst his peers and rivals. Dorian Pavus, the perpetual headache of his class. Dorian Pavus, a rare talent with a knack for troublemaking.

"Boredom and rage. Bad combination," Bull murmured. "Guess we made all the right choices after all, if it led me here to you."

And wasn't that the sweetest thing a lover ever said to him? "Sap," Dorian muttered, and he turned his face away to hide the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. "Unrepentant sap."

[tworoadsandapenny]

Heart and Mind

The first in a series of oneshots I wrote for various Deviantart contests. I did in fact win with this one, but the artist promptly disappeared after the contest, so my winning fanart request was never to be seen. Alas. Had fun writing this anyway.

~~~~~~

5 years old

“Ow! Ow! OW! That hurts!!”

“I haven’t even touched it yet, Mikey!” Donatello stood opposite his younger brother, inspecting a wooden sliver that invaded the younger’s finger. “Hmmm.” He hummed as he stared at the afflicting piece of wood, getting a decent angle before using a pair of tweezers to pry it out without much trouble. Only a small bubble of blood left any indication that there’d been an injury at all.

“It’s bleeding! I’m bleeding!! You can’t stop the blood!! I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!!” Mikey cried as his brother pulled out an old metal lunchbox he’d recently found and drawn a red cross on top with a label that said ‘med kit’.

“You’re not gonna die, Mikey. I can fix it!” Donnie rummaged through his kit until he found the small box of Batman Band-Aids, a wide grin on his face; this was his first time getting to use his med kit and it was very exciting.

“You sure? You’re not gonna cut off my finger?”

“I’m sure. Don’t worry little bro, I’ll make it all better!” With giant puppy eyes that glistened with tears, Mikey looked away as Don affixed the Band-Aid with gentle fingers. “There! See? All better!”

Mikey rubbed the tears from his eyes, looking from the Batman Band-Aid to his brother’s proud smile. Donnie had fixed his finger and made the pain go away like magic. He really was a genius! “Thanks, Dee.” He said through a sniffle as Don packed up his kit. “You’re the best!”

15 years old

“Calm down, Dee.” Mikey winced as his brother held his bleeding arm, turning it over with trembling hands as he rushed to staunch the blood flow.

“This is a big deal, Mikey! That kunai almost hit your bone, and if I don’t do this right, you might have permanent nerve damage.”

The younger turtle hid a grimace behind a smile as his brother bandaged the wound. He did his best to keep from yelping in pain as Don worked, watching the worry in his bother’s eyes grow. “No worries.” He caught Don’s gaze and smiled wide. “I’m sure you can wave your medical wand and make it all better!”

“I’m serious, Mikey.”

“So am I, Dee.” Don glanced up at his younger brother’s confident eyes, not a single concern hidden in any corner of his features. Pure trust. “You always make it better.”

Staring at his baby brother a moment longer, Don felt confidence surge anew as he continued his task. It took another hour to stitch and bandage everything up, but once the job was done, the tall turtle was confident his brother would heal well. “There.” He sighed, feeling his panic finally ebb.

Mikey slowly turned his arm to get a view of the bandages and eye his brother’s hard work. “See? All better!”

Don shook his head with a humoured roll of his eyes. “Just don’t move it too much. And no patrol until it’s healed, got it? “

“Aye, Aye!” Mikey went to salute with the wrong hand, immediately grasping it to his plastron with a wince before peeking at his brother and beaming. “Thanks Dee, you’re the best.” 

35 years old

“Guys, we need to end this!” Don shouted over his shoulder as he pressed his hands to Mikey’s side. The wound was deep, as indicated by the amount of blood now pooling on the floor, but he’d need his lights and equipment at home to get a good enough look to make sure nothing vital was damaged. They needed to get Mikey home. Now.

Leo and Raph stepped up their game, the worry in Don’s voice adding fuel to their protective fires. Foot soldiers were felled left, right, and centre, the herd thinning with each passing moment.

“Party-pooper.” Mikey pouted with a wheeze as he glanced at the battle raging behind Don’s shell. “Things were just gettin’ fun.”

“I’d hardly call this fun.” Don pulled his mask from his face, using the fabric to hold back the blood from gushing further.

Mikey winced at the pressure. “No Don, not the mask! You’ll…” He paused to cough a laboured breath. “…give away your secret identity.” His feigned worry was met with an unamused glare by his taller sibling. “Hello? This thing… on…?” His words faded with each shallow breath.

“Stop talking and save your energy.” Don spoke with practiced calm, very used to dealing with his younger sibling’s antics, even in such serious circumstances. As Mikey looked about to reply, his eyes snapped shut and a hiss of pain cut through his teeth. Don looked down to the wound and found something glinting in the starlight. A small shard from the offending weapon was wedged into the gash, hiding in Mikey’s blood.

Gathering his panic and shoving it out of mind, as he’d done so many times over the years, Don manoeuvred his hands so they were no longer pressing on the shard but still slowing the blood. “Leo—“

“Get him out of here, Don. We’ll cover your retreat.”

Leo’s voice was commanding, leaving no room for argument. And while Don didn’t like the idea of moving Mikey on his own—or at all, for that matter— he knew how crucial the next ten minutes were to keeping his brother alive.

Leo was right. Time to move.

He placed Mikey’s hand in the proper position over the wound. “Keep pressure here.” The younger did as instructed without complaint, while Don took his brother’s arm and pulled it over his shoulder, shoving aside the worry that lanced down his spine as Mikey groaned in pain. “Hold on, Mikey. You’ll be OK.”

“I know, Dee. I’m sure you’ll fix me up… all nice and pretty.”

Mikey’s smile, reassuring despite the pain, was a welcome support to keep Don’s fear at bay. He’d dealt with wounds like this before. Mikey would be OK. Don could fix this.

Several days of touch and go had rattled the entire Hamato family. As they all sat gathered around the youngest turtle, sleeping after days of worry and keeping watch, Don awoke to find Mikey squeezing his hand and fluttering his eyes open. “Welcome back.” The tall turtle whispered, relief sweeping through and finally allowing him to breathe normal for the first time in days.

Mikey looked around groggily, bringing a hand to his side and feeling the bandages.

“It was pretty deep. Raph and Leo both had to donate some blood.” Don explained. “It may take a while to heal, but you’ll be alright. That is, assuming you can sit still for a few weeks.” The light smile that crossed Mikey’s lips brought endless comfort to Don’s stressed features.

A small cough had Don heading to get some water. Before he left, he heard his brother’s ragged voice whisper, “Thanks Dee. You’re the best.”

95 years old

Donatello sat in the grass, enjoying it’s cool touch as he bathed in the morning light. He’d dreamed of his brothers last night. Memories of the battles they’d fought danced before his eyes as he’d watched in awe at how they’d overcome them all. It was crazy to think they’d managed to survive long enough to grow old. Between the alien invasions, the gang fights, and the wars, it never ceased to amaze Don how many times they’d avoided tragedy.

They were certainly lucky.

Mikey liked to say it wasn’t luck that got them through, but Don himself. Not a notion Don liked to entertain too seriously, lest he fall prey to his own arrogance, but hearing it from his baby brother was always a nice affirmation.

Don smiled as he thought of his younger sibling.

Mikey always believed in him. Ever since they were tots and he stuck that first Batman Band-Aid on his finger, Mikey believed Don could work miracles. It didn’t matter the injury, the young turtle would always look at his brother with confidence and trust that gave Don the courage to do what needed to be done, no matter how terrified he was of doing it.

Mikey never knew how much his faith in Don’s skill meant to the genius. Never knew how many times his trust was the only thing keeping Don from walking away and saying he couldn’t do it. Never knew that every time Don saved one of their lives, Mikey had a part in it.

Michelangelo kept them together all these years. He may never have felt like a crucial member of the team, always assuming he was the goof or the jokester and wasn’t necessary in battle, but the older three knew the truth: without Mikey, there was no team.

A strong wind began to blow, sending a chill down Don’s old bones. Leo would be finishing his morning walk soon, which meant they’d need to make some breakfast before Raph woke up. No rest for the weary.

Standing on shaky legs, Don took one more moment to enjoy the sun on his face.

As warm as his baby brother’s smile.

“Thanks Mikey.” He placed his hand on the cold stone before him, tracing his brother’s name with his finger, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “You’re the best.”

~~~~~~

Based on the picture below, therefore I usually see this one in the 2012 fandom.

End of Line.

-TRAaP

[cecilia01]

Ordinary

Chapter three First Impressions

The first day of the term, I woke up to the golden sunrays caressing my cheeks through the ornate windows of our dormitory. For a few minutes I only laid there, enjoying the warmth and the dance of the lights on the scattered furniture and the belongings of my mates, feeling glad to be back.

After dressing in robes and pestering Samantha up too, the both of us emerged from the girls’ side to the Ravenclaw common room, to leave for breakfast. ‘I really don’t see the point in starting school so early, really.’ said Samantha with an enormous eyewatering yawn. ‘My mind does not work anyway, so I might as well just miss the morning classes…’ ‘9 o’clock is not that early, Sam. In my muggle school we started at 8, and you had to commute too. Besides, not everyone is such a late riser.’ I smiled at her. It had been five years, and every morning was a battle. Sam was in every aspect an owl: wise, deep thinker and nocturnal. ‘It is not healthy. I read in a book that you shall sleep enough amount of time each day for your brain to develop well. Do they not want me to get as clever as possible? Honestly…’ She went on with her rant over the disadvantages of forcing people to get up at an uncomfortable time, until we reached our table in the bustle of the Great Hall. ‘Have you seen the timetable yet?’ asked Amit as we sat down to get some tea and toast. ‘No, I have not.’ I said, pouring tea to Samantha, who was already half asleep on Everett Clopton’s shoulder. ‘Is it bad? I shan’t bear another year with double potions on Monday mornings. That was plain torture last year.’ ‘It was not that bad, the Transfiguration after, on the other hand…’ said Samantha, spooning some porridge. ‘No, it is fine. We’ve only got Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts today.’ Amit handed me the parchment. ‘No Herbology?’ asked Samantha sleepily, accidentally dropping some of her porridge on Everett’s robes. ‘No, Samantha.’ said the boy irritably, sweeping off Sam’s head. ‘And anyway, what is the point of anything, when there is no Quiddich to look forward to..?’ he said with a heart-rending tone. Everybody knew how great of a Quiddich fan he was, despite flying very poorly. I sent him a sympathetic smile, thinking of something encouraging to say. ‘Oh, that reminds me. Have you seen Imelda? I wanted to see how she’s faring after yesterday’s announcement.’ said Samantha, turning her head towards the Slytherin table. At the and of the long table sat our small group of green-robed friends, with a new red-headed witch, seemingly in deep discussion. But Imelda was nowhere to be seen. ‘If you are looking for Imelda, I’ve seen her raging down the Main Hall. She seemed so out of her mind that I didn’t dare approach her.’ said Garreth with a grin as he passed our table on his way out of the Great Hall. ‘We shall meet her after class then, shan’t we Cecilia?’ ‘Ah, yes.’ I tore my eyes from the green table. How come they were such bosom friends just after a day? ‘Definitely. Shall we go now?’ ‘All right.’ said Samantha following my sight, with a strangely amused expression.

As I guessed beforehand, the new girl seemed to be good at everything. She won in the Summoner’s Court game against Natty and the duel against Sebastian. No one defeated him before in class, so you could see the sparkle of interest flaming into curiosity in his eyes as they finished the duel. ‘Not bad for a beginner. You give as good as you get.’ he said, sweeping off the dust on his robes, with a tone of surprise in his voice. But he wasn’t alone, the whole class seemed to be enchanted with her performance on her first day. As the class ended, the sunlit classroom deserted within minutes, for everyone got aware how brilliant the weather was outside of the castle, and how unpleasant muggy it was inside. ‘Shouldn’t we introduce ourselves to her?’ I asked Samantha, as we were packing our bags to leave. ‘Oh, I already did after Charms. She seems lovely, you should go too. I try to run Imelda down in the meantime. Shall we meet back in the common room?’ As I nodded and watched Samantha leave the classroom, some inexplicable nervousness ran through me. I tried to shake it off, while crossing to the window, where the new girl was standing. ‘Hello! I’m Cecilia Maple. So nice to have finally met you! You were just splendid in both classes, what is your secret?’ ‘Nice to meet you too! My name is Cordelia Vane. And thank you, but I’m afraid there is not much to it. I have a way with these things, I presume.’ she said with an affable smile. Now that I was closer to her, I could muster her features better. Her pretty face was scattered with freckles, with a cheek of the most beautiful shade of rosy, that you otherwise would only see on paintings of delicate ladies. And of course, her soft wavy locks of red hair, that muggle ladies would pay their soul to achieve unnaturally. But her eyes, that where the green of her robes, which seemed so gleamy from a great distance, were not mirroring her sweet smile, they were somehow cold. Shivering cold, piercing into me... ‘Oh I…yes, well…of course you’ve got…’ I started with a stutter, trying to look away, when Sebastian from the other side of the class called out in our direction. ‘Nice work, Cordelia. May I have a word?’ ‘Excuse me.’ she said with a faint smile and strode off towards the boy. I waved a yes in relieve, and absent-mindedly scampered out the room. It did not make sense at all, she was nothing, but proper nice and polite.

So why was I scared of her?

[fouldinosaursalad]

gustavo’s origins. (Tw stillbirth/colonisation) (gustavo’s pov,)

Envy is common among my kin. We often desire more than a bed of wet grass. I grew up in a willow grove, but that was centuries ago. We were chased out of our home, and we watched from afar as our land was taken and destroyed by the humans. Thousands of years of history for our tribe lost; all of our writings and belongings gone. 

They tore down more and more of the forest to build their own homes, pushing us further and further away. They hunted us, killing any of us they caught. We fled the forest, fleeing further from human settlements. We wandered for months to reach one of the few untouched places that the humans keep. We were forced to settle in a “gone forest” in some shoddy tower that smells like pizza for some reason. 

The “pizza tower” we have hidden in is far from what we would choose, but Flora and Iris are too close to birthing to risk moving anymore. We have to be on watch at all times to ensure those cheeseslimes don't get too close to the females. I pray to the great moon mother that these children survive. 

“Mica, you should rest. You have been on watch since we stopped here,” Daimen’s voice is soft. “Iris went into labor. I worry too much for her and the little one to go rest.” I turn to look at him, and the scent on the wind catches my attention. The smell of smoke from wet wood being burned raises the hair on the back of my neck. 

“Do you smell that?” “What … a fire?” Daimen asks. I leap from the branch I had been perched on. I take off, following the scent and keeping to the shadows of the trees. I reach a strange military hideout in a frighteningly short amount of time. An old oak casts a deep enough shadow to hide me from human sight. 

Three soldiers, ignorant of the dangers that surround them. A black haired man suddenly rises and stumbles away from their little camp and the reach of the firelight. I follow the black haired man, staying out of his sight when he drops the can that was in his hand and leaves it. Rage fuels me. 

I step on a branch moving to just behind him. The human freezes before breaking into a stumbling run forward. I keep a seedy pace following him, easily breaking twigs and small branches as I go. Suddenly, a gremlin, a gnome’s natural enemy, landed on me. He was wearing a yellow jumpsuit with a cape. It wrestles with me, before I pull out a knife and point it to the gremlins chest.

“Envy is common amongst my kin we often desire more than a bed of wet grass. Greed and envy go hand in hand, power turns envy to greed. Humans and gremlins have such greedy hearts; they have ripped apart our home. Their factories poison our water and our prey; it sickens our women and twists the children. 

So sinful you are, yet we are the monstrous beasts to you. We are not even fit to live in the sickly sweet “spire” where you put our stolen frogs. Oh little gremlin, why are you crying now? You claim that you're superior to us; you trample through the gnome forest and “camp” out here as a past time. We all know that this human pizza war shit has messed everyone up, and yet you want more to win, you want to kill every last human and gnome that appears before you.

Don't you see you're not built for this, with that small noodle body of yours? Look at you, stumbling about like a newborn cheeseslime. Your heartbeat gives away your fear; it's beating so fast I think it might burst. I should have been docile right? The homeless beasts. But you're cowering like a rabbit cornered by a wolf. 

Your kin sees themselves as apex predators. Yet our faces are but a breath apart and you can’t see me clearly. Who has favor here: the one part of the midnight shadows, or the creature who only takes from the land? Such short lives you live compared to the damage you do. Yet you're so easy to harm. You prize your soft fragile skin, so easy to split it open. It would be so easy to sink my claws into your throat. The lightest touch of them has already drawn blood, a little more pressure from my hand and I can close your airway. can feel the burn of the spit skin and the warm blood spilling free? Or has fear blocked such feeling? 

Weak eyes, smell, and hearing, laughable for a predator that you call yourself. You know we were once beautiful like you or our cousins. Our skin shimmered under the moonlight, bioluminescent I believe you called it. We claim it was a gift from our goddess but you killed her too. No records remain, no stories but what we remember. 

You're so pathetic, small, and fragile. All you can do is cry and beg. Your kind is but a child to mine. Do you see how small you are, how weak, even as emaciated as I am your hand does not circle my wrist. I wish you could see how you RUINED US! “

CRACK 

“Oh, such a shame. Sigh. I should have been more careful. It is frustrating how fragile even your bones are. 

Have no fear though, seams your friends heard your screams. One day your kin will pay for their greed. Our envy has only grown as has our anger. We are tired of beds of grass and dirt but that will be your last bed little corpse-“

a explosion rings. It was a decoy. A blow up balloon that has gunpowder in, gremlins are really clever, you know that, right?

I slipped through the trees carefully back to the cave. one of the many caves and cottages we are forced to call home. Daimen cornered me before I reached the clearing surrounding the cave. “What were you thinking Gustavo, hunting a gremlin!” His voice carries a cold edge. “They have taken everything from us, our home, our health, our culture is in ruins. If we continue like this we will die. We as a people will no longer exist. 

In the last century, we have had three pregnancies in our clan and they all lead to at least the child dying, and one has taken the mother's life as well. If we do not stand against the gremlins, then what is there to stop us from ending up like the shapeshifters.” “They are too powerful, what do you expect us to do gustavo!?” Daimen shouts stoping me. “We turn to the demons. Gremlins have to live in harmony with them due to their strength. I am the proof we can have healthy young with them. “ 

“You're insane. Just like your mother for saying such things.” He grabs my arm. “So you wish to just ignore that I am the last member of our time to reach adulthood. All other children that have been born have died, and not because of this war either. They were too sick to live long.” I pull away from him. “You and the elders refuse to see the truth that it is the only chance at survival we have. 

Soon the women will make the choice. This is Flora’s fourth pregnancy. Do you think if she loses this one she will stay with you? I will gladly lead any who wish to seek the demons to them.” I enter the cave letting my words linger on his mind. I pause, and a heartbroken wail fills the air. Daimen rushes past me to seek his mourning mate. I enter the dark cave and seek out my own mate, finding her holding a softly crying newborn. 

I quickly move to my small family sitting behind my mate and holding them both. Looking down at my daughter in her arms “Her name is Belladonna” Iris’s voice is quiet and the exhaustion rings clear in it. My daughter carries my blue eyes though hers seem to glow faintly in the light of the fire. 

Flora’s cries while having quieted still echo off the cave wall as she hysterically demands her mate to take the body of the child away. Her angry tone draws my gaze away from my darling little one. She is demanding her mate take the body not the healer. “Get it away from me and stay gone yourself! WHAT GOOD IS A MALE WHO CAN’T SIRE A CHILD!” Her words echo long after Dainen had fled the cave. 

And so, Damien clawed my newborn daughter. She didn’t even get to live a day.

“Leave,” was a,l Damien said. So I was forced out of the gnome forest, and forced to trek to god knows where.

—————

5 years later (third person.)

Another day at the pizzeria. Another slow, uneventful, and borderline empty day.

Which was pretty much every day at the pizzeria at that point. The place was so lifeless, that one could consider it more akin to an abandoned building in the middle of a graveyard than a full-on establishment. The only noise that accompanied the sad eatery was the sound of a broken down air conditioner.

How Peppino yearned to hear the bell on the door finally ring out as a customer walked in and placed an order. Yet, he knew deep down that was unlikely to ever happen.

Especially considering the fact that he had the place built on a cliff.

In the middle of nowhere.

At least the scenery was nice.

He sighed, turning his gaze from the door to the cracked clock on the wall. It looked to be about 8:30pm.

He stood up, letting out a grunt as he stretched his arms. He looked behind himself, laying his eyes on the door that led out back. A little fresh air wouldn’t hurt, especially after standing still inside of a run-down pizzeria for god-knows-how-long.

He took one step towards the door and immediately had to grab onto the counter behind him. It was only then that he realized how sore and stiff his legs were from standing for hours on end.

He cursed under his breath as he dragged his feet across the tiled floor and turned the knob to the backdoor. The outside of the building was a clear contrast to the inside, with it being a small, lovely wooded area that—despite having no flowers growing around it���was still quite homey and pleasant, and Peppino found it perfect for taking breaks from the insipid days and nights.

He exhaled, the tension in his body leaving as he sunk back against the outside wall. He rubbed his sunken eyes before placing his hands on his stomach and shutting his eyes, looking forward to some nicely deserved rest.

“Hello, fellow gremlin!”

Peppino’s eyes snapped open and he nearly screamed as he heard an unfamiliar voice call out to him from some place he couldn’t pinpoint. “Che cazzo?! Who said that? Who’s-a there?!” He yelled back as he jumped his feet and whipped his head around frantically.

“Up here!” The voice said again, and Peppino looked up. His eyes went wide as he saw, hanging onto a tree branch, a stout, hairy man with pointy ears and… was that a tail?!

“Hey! Just-a what are you?!” Peppino questioned with a shout, his hands moving wildly as he went on. “And-a what are you doing on-a my property?!”

“Well, I’ll tell you if you can get me down from this tree!” The pointy-eared man shouted back. “Please, if you could be so kind?” He added with a softer tone and a smile.

Peppino groaned. “Alright, alright. Fine.” He trudged towards the tree, holding his arms up and spreading them wide. “Come on, jump-a down.”

“But I’m scared! What if I f-f-fall?” The pointy-eared man replied, the tuft on his tail twitching lightly.

“That’s-a the point, stupido culo. You will fall into my arms.” Peppino grew irritated.

“But gremlin—“

“Fine-a! Stay still then!” Peppino grouched as he stomped away from the tree. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this.

He stretched his legs, knelt down with his body facing towards the tree and, with all his might, started to run towards it. His feet practically gliding across the ground, he used the momentum from the run to climb up the tree and grip onto the branch, causing it to sway and bend.

He grabbed the back of the man’s shirt in his hand, causing the latter to yelp as they dropped back to the ground with a thud. Peppino let go of the pointy-eared man, who looked up at him in admiration, his tail wagging happily like how a dog’s would.

“Thank you so much, gremlin! I assure you I will never forget this!” The man crowed. “You know, you’re rather strong for a gremlin! And tall! And—” he narrowed his eyes, “Your ears…” he gasped dramatically. “You’re not a gremlin, are you? You’re… a human??!”

Peppino chuckled in confusion. “Uhh… yeah? I would sure hope so.”

The man took Peppino’s hand and shook it vigorously, his eyes sparkling. “Oh boy! I’ve never met a real human before! It’s such an honor to—“ he stopped, pulling away as his cheeks turned rosy red. “Oh, where are my manners? My name is Gustavo, and I’m what you may call a gnome!”

Peppino stared at Gustavo in silence. “A…gnome.” He repeated. Was this a prank? Did the Noise hire some random guy to dress up as a mythical creature and mess with him? Peppino wouldn’t put it past the gremlin.

But the pointy ears, short stature and the tufted tail looked too real to just be a poorly put-together costume.

“A gnome!” Gustavo replied, a wide grin on his round face. “What’s your name, my human friend?”

“I’m-a not your friend.” Peppino grumbled. “The name’s Peppino, though.”

“Peppino…alrighty, Peppy! It’s fantastic to meet you!” Gustavo chirped.

Peppino’s face went flushed with embarrassment and aggravation. “Don’t call-a me that…!” He huffed before regaining his composure. “Now shoo. You must have a home you need to go back to.”

“Well, the thing is…” Gustavo began, “I do, but… I thought it’d be nice to try something new, you know? Do more things? See more places?”

“And you chose the back of my pizzeria as your new home—“

“A pizzeria?! This is a pizzeria?! I had one of those back in my old village! It was amazing!” Gustavo exclaimed. “I’ve always wondered what it was like to work in one! Can I help out? Please? After all, it would be a good way to repay you after you so gracefully saved me!”

Mio Dio, what have I done? Peppino lamented internally as he gazed at Gustavo. On one hand, he literally just met this dude.

This dude who was climbing a damn tree.

In the back of his establishment.

On the other hand, Peppino did need help. Running an entire pizzeria alone can take quite a toll on an already incredibly disgruntled Italian man. And Gustavo seemed like a lively little man. In spite of him likely going to be very annoying, he could probably take on a job like that.

“It’s a bit-a run-down… are-a you sure?” Peppino inquired.

“Yes, I’m very sure! Just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it, no questions asked! It’s the best I can do for someone who saved me!” Gustavo insisted with a playful salute and a jubilant smile.

“Alright-a, if you say so,” Peppino concluded. “Welcome to the team, Gustavo.”

Gustavo looked like he was about to explode with joy. “YESS!!” He yelled out as he jumped in the air with glee and whimsy. It was almost charming. “Thank you so much, Peppino! What’s my first job?”

“Well, uh… the place could use-a some cleaning,” he explained as the two walked back into the building. Gustavo took one long look at the interior before nodding.

“Yep, I can do that. Hand me the tools, Peppy, and I’ll be done in a jiffy!”

Peppino grabbed a mop from the cleaning supplies room and handed it to Gustavo with a huff. “I told-a you to stop-a calling me that,” he mumbled.

“Heh, sorry about that! I’ll get to work right now!” Gustavo responded, beginning to walk away before turning back with a sly smile. “Peppy.”

“STAI ZITTO!!”

[dishtothedeath]

Free fall death all the way down // Fergus // Trial 4.8 (jesus) // ATTN: Everyone

Sunny doesn’t vote for him. In fact, he makes a big show out of voting for Jun’ya. 

Fergus looks… confused for a second. He stares ahead at the vote count and the one, lonely voice next to Jun’ya’s name. One. One vote for Jun’ya. There it stands. Right next to two for himself and three for Yukari. 

It’s true that his fire is running out of air, but it does have enough in it for one, final roaring flame. 

“You –” “YOU –”

“YOU — YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT, YOU FUCKING MORONIC LITTLE CUNT!! WHY DID YOU VOTE FOR – NOW SHE’S GOING TO FOR SURE –!!”

“WHY!!”

For whatever reason in his bout of desperate rage as his hands grip at the table so hard it feels like his bones might break, he remembers his mother. Maybe it’s Jun’ya mentioning his, and taking Fergus back to the talk they had when they were playing pool together.  

Griselda Campbell was so much like her son. Angry, loud, strong. She was one to always gamble, she loved the thrill of it with all of her fool-hardy, flighty, wild heart. When Fergus was little she would take him to watch horse racing, or bet on football games, or she’d let him sit on her lap as she played poker. She would always bet insane amounts of money, and she would always be smiling, sweat beading on her forehead from the excitement, win or lose.

You could say Fergus was born out of Griselda betting everything on love. She had lost, of course, but she had won… well, the odds would’ve had a great pay-off.

Is he willing to do the same? 

He gambled once already, but now… he really would have to go all in. He’d have much more at the table than his own life. That’s all small chips in his books. 

”…”

Fergus’ breathing evens out. His death grip on the table eases, and he forces himself to sit back down, arms clasping at his biceps though they’re still trembling. If he’s brave now, he could still win.

“... Fuck it.”

“I did not kill Alfie.”

All in.

“I had nothing to do with the fuckin’ thing. I was tryin’ to protect my wife because I was afraid that — that I wouldn’t be able to – that we wouldn’t be able to figure out the poisoner in time. Because for a while it looked real bad, and I realised even when investigatin’ that Araceli’s gotta be involved, and when y’all started to vote for her... I rather took the blame to play it safe.”

“... But seems the puzzle pieces are fallin’ in place.”

“I think by now I’m startin’ to feel pretty convinced that Jun’ya was mixin’ more than just drinks.”

He looks to Yukari now.

“I won’t vote for myself if ye won’t vote for yerself.”

All in.

[heartofspells]

Fingers clutch at the edges of the sink basin, knuckles white, straining, begging for control. Breath hitches, struggles, fights for release and for stay. 

Sirius looks up, stares into the mirror before him, but it’s not his own grey eyes he sees gazing back at him. Brown eyes. Haunted. Horror-filled. Betrayal thick. Hurt thicker, heavier. Suffocating. 

All his transgressions laid bare in front of him, spread wide, opened up. His life like a library, a catalogue, a cumulus. His every mistake, every triumph, every love, every hate is burning to the ground, pages curling at the edges, blackening, air turning acrid, the stench unbearable.

His fist flies into the glass. Shattered. Pieces hitting porcelain, tinkling like chimes. Embedded deeply into skin.

He’d hurt Remus. He’d broken things beyond repair. He’d ruined everything just as he always has. And now, everything burns.

I haven’t done any of the others, but I figured I’d try my hand at one. For @wolfstarmicrofic, prompt: library. 

(Not quite a microfic, but far better than I usually do with things like this. At least it isn’t 3K.)

[natasha-in-space]

A Crimson Rose

。• *₊°。.❀。• *₊°。.❀。• *₊° 。

Pairing: Suit!Saeran/gn!reader

Summary: You never expected to visit this garden again, much less with Saeran as your companion. The night air feels fresh and with it, comes an intriguing encounter, which you'll reminiscence on for a long time to come. (The reader is implied to have stayed in Magenta for a longer period of time rather than the amount stated in canon. This was done for me to establish their relationship with Saeran and allow for a much more organic interactions on my part! Please keep that in mind.)

You fiddled awkwardly with the hem of your shirt in between your fingers, having no idea where to put your hands. When Saeran ordered you to be ready to meet him at the door immediately, this was not at all what you expected, especially in the middle of the night. It seemed like a whole eternity had passed since your last visit to this garden... It would be foolish to try to deny that everything around you did not bring back such dear memories of Ray and all the precious times spent with him here. From a gentle melody of leaves rustling about, enveloping an entire perimeter of the garden with the aura of calmness, to various colorful buds, near which Ray stopped by to share with you the knowledge of his dear friends.

It seemed like everything has remained the same, not suffering a single significant change since the disappearance of a hacker you held dear to your heart. This thought... stung.

Was it just another game from Saeran? A test? Some kind of cruel joke? Much to your surprise, he had not uttered a single word since your 'walk' had begun. Except for occasional orders in the form of sporadic: 'faster!', or 'don't fall behind!', not a single worthwhile phrase has escaped past his lips, thus putting you in a rather uncomfortable position. You had no idea what he was thinking or what you should be expecting from him today.

And yet... A small pang of shame in your chest made you silently shake your head and try your best to distract yourself from these gloomy thoughts. Whatever motivation Saeran might have... It's not very right of you to think only of Ray right now.

Even though... denying the fact that you miss him would be stupid.

Completely lost in your thoughts, you did not even notice how your companion stopped abruptly, forcing you to bump your nose against his back. You immediately gasped in shock and took a hasty step back. The heat of embarrassment rose to your cheeks, treacherously revealing an overwhelming feeling of awkwardness that raged in your mind along with the frantic pounding of your heart against your ribcage.

Stupid, stupid- 

"Ah- I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to push you, Saeran..."

A nervous smile strained your features as you frantically waved your hands in front of your red face. Oddly enough, in response to your obvious mistake, Saeran only rolled his eyes at you and clicked his tongue, defiantly folding both arms on his chest.

"Tch, your clumsiness never ceases to amaze me, toy. I'm surprised you could even get down the stairs on your own without tripping over your own feet like you usually do. No wonder Ray was so eager to lock you in that room, never letting you out again, hahaha!"

He cackled, clearly enjoying this opportunity to make fun of you.

Though, his gaze narrowed in displeasure as you instantly lowered your eyes to your feet, just like you always did whenever he mentioned Ray to you. This wasn't the first time he told you this... And it's not like you were so naive so as to not notice painfully obvious red flags in Ray's behavior towards you. Ray wasn't perfect or a saint... He was... Ray. And that was enough for you.

You just wished Saeran would understand that too. 

Hacker snorted, turning his back on you again and hastily tapping his shoe on the ground to demonstrate his impatience.

"Well, whatever... I don't have time to put up with your fuck-ups today anyway. Unlike you, I have a ton of important responsibilities waiting for me. You'll have to catch up one way or another, airhead."

And with that, without giving you a single warning in advance, he suddenly grabbed your hand and tugged you towards him, causing you to clumsily stumble after him with a startled squeak falling from your lips. It seemed that he had no intention of addressing this strange gesture, simply continuing down the path with wide confident steps and dragging you along, as if nothing had even happened. Your heart trembled helplessly in your chest. Perhaps something is wrong with you since even such small signs of affection from him could create a raging storm of emotions within you... But with Saeran, you quickly learned just how important it was for you to be able to read between the lines. To notice these occasional small glimpses that could slip past you with ease. Glimpses of someone much more versatile and empathetic than this cruel facade of endless rage that Rika has forced upon him.

You wished that, one day, Saeran would no longer have this need to prove his strength and resilience to someone so desperately. You wished... to see him bloom freely.

Just like Ray did.

His hand felt rough and cold around your own, letting you know perfectly of all exhausting work those hands do, day in and day out, without a single break for proper rest. Ray never took off his gloves... therefore, being able to touch his hand like this, without a single barrier separating his skin from yours, made your entire body fill up with ticklish warmth, trying desperately to burst out of you in the form of a happy wide grin. Which you tried to restrain with the best of your abilities.

You didn't want to ruin this moment, after all.

He reminded you of a stray cat you once met, back when you were still a kid. How nobody wanted anything to do with her, since she was too aggressive and refused to let people get close to her. They deemed her as evil and hostile, but you never gave up on trying to befriend her. It took you time and a lot of patience, slowly but surely proving to the thin hungry animal your trustworthiness. You learned about the many scars this poor cat harbored on her tiny body. She was even missing an eye. You learned that... she was just scared. Terrified to be hurt like that again. But... after literal months of slow bonding, she finally trusted you enough to pet her. Granted, she was still pretty squeamish about the whole ordeal, however, she trusted you enough to know that you won't hurt her. You couldn't help but think of that small grey cat during moments like this, smiling warmly at the memory. You knew Saeran was just trying to protect himself. Of course, his violent behavior towards you was not justifiable, and you knew that. You made a rational choice to fight for him. 

And you were determined to see it through up to the bitter end. 

For a moment, you glanced at Saeran's facial expression, trying to be as discreet as possible. Instead of the usual angry scowl or a cruel grin, you were met with a display of deep thoughtfulness, as if he was lost inside his head, completely oblivious to the reality surrounding him.

He looked absolutely exhausted... and kind of lonely.

You gently wrapped your fingers around his palm in return, wanting to provide him your support without pronouncing any words. Yes... Despite everything, you still believed in him. And... you sincerely cared for him - just as you cared for Ray.

After what seemed like an eternity, which in reality was only a couple of minutes, you found the courage to try to start up a conversation, feeling slightly embarrassed by the unnatural silence on his part.

"Um... So, where are we going?"

Saeran tilted his head in your direction, raising an eyebrow in cold amusement.

"And you bothered to ask that only now? Pretty late for that, don't you think?"

For a moment, a familiar sly grin crept up across his lips before he returned his gaze to the road in front of you. A short, irritated sigh followed, as if he was too tired to maintain his usual front, but also unwilling to drop his defenses in front of you completely. Not yet, anyway.

"Forget it. We're almost there, so I don't see the point in explaining every single painfully obvious detail to you. I'm not your teacher, toy, remember this at last!"

Of course. 

All you could do was sigh and resign yourself to your fate, silently following Saeran along the many crooks and crannies of this garden. How did he even know his way around here so well, anyway? It's not like he comes here often, after all.

"Fine..."

You mumbled, puffing out your cheeks in quiet defiance and instead deciding to fix your gaze upon the many bushes surrounding you, consisting of flowers of all possible shapes and sizes.

Saeran really is different today... You wondered what could have possibly happened. Spending time with him like this… felt quite pleasant, if you were being honest with yourself. His occasional hissy remarks towards you no longer had any real effect on you, and having the opportunity, albeit with an effort, but still exchange a few words with him in a calm mutual dialogue, was incredibly pleasing. Finally, he broke his stride, quickly releasing your hand and taking a couple of steps to the side, as if looking for something specific. You resisted the urge to reach out for his hand again, already missing the warm feeling of his palm around your own. Instead, you followed after Saeran, peering warily over his shoulder and trying to discern the reason for your visit to this garden during such late hours of the night.

"And... what are we doing here?"

You decided to ask, already feeling much more at ease in his company and expressing genuine interest in his possible plans.

Instead of providing you a precise answer, Saeran turned to face you and took a step closer, reducing an already rather tiny distance between you two to the very minimum. For a moment, you were quite taken aback by his sudden closeness. It's not like such action on his part was something new to you... But right now, feeling him this close... it was too dangerous for your already helplessly fluttering heart. And yet, you did not find the strength to back away this time. You simply froze in place and did not take away your bewildered gaze from his face not even for a second. To your dismay, you couldn't help but notice how utterly gorgeous Saeran looked in the mesmerizing light of many night lamps surrounding you. It was framing his slender figure in a most ideal way possible, like he was glowing. He looked different from Ray... However, the way his beauty took your breath away felt just as overwhelming.

For some reason, you didn't feel a single hint of threat as he grabbed your chin in between his fingers with odd sense of elegance in his movements. He delicately lifted your face towards him, thus cutting off all possible escape routes you might have had before. Not that you even thought about taking your eyes off him, though.

For a moment, strange silence hung between you two, interrupted only by the soft rustling of various bushes around you and soft melody of crickets continuing their seranade without any worry in the world. You could not read an odd expression that was written all over his face at this moment. You did not have the slightest idea what answers he might have wanted to seek out by peering so intently into your eyes. It was as if he could see your very soul in all its glory. 

Saeran is definitely acting strange... Being this close to him, you couldn't help but notice deep dark bags under his eyes. They were an ideal representation of incredible fatigue that he had to fight off every single day. Perhaps something happened during his work...? You had no idea.

Whatever it was, you did not have much time to think and ponder. Just as quickly as Saeran's shield of rage and bitterness faded, it reappeared again, making itself known in the form of a wide mocking smirk, distorting his previously peaceful features. A stinging, raspy laugh reached your ears, sending a wave of goosebumps down your spine.

Agh... This is bad. You need to pull yourself together! 

Saeran cocked his head to the side with a taunting curiosity, like a sly cat, providing you with his next question.

"Well, how do you enjoy a night stroll with me in your precious garden, hm, prince/ss? I know that you wanted to come here. You spent almost all of your free time staring at this place 'out your window. It's annoying. I honestly thought about the possibility of moving you somewhere where you won't be able see even a glimpse of this useless dirt as your punishment. But... I think this will serve as a good enough lesson for you. Be grateful."

An already familiar to you mocking tone of his speech gave rise to a pulling feeling of disappointment in your chest, however... This time, you did not lower your gaze, continuing to evenly and calmly withstand a stern look of his mint eyes and waiting for his further actions. For some reason, there wasn't even half the fervor that he usually put into his torment of you. It's like he's not as interested in his threats as he would like you to believe.

As if there was more to this than simply a raw desire to humiliate you and feel better about it.

Saeran bowed his head, moving close enough to you that your noses were almost touching. The pungent smell of his cologne hit your nostrils hard. You knew how obsessively he used it to eradicate any signs of his 'weaker' half.

The tone of his voice dropped noticeably, turning into a barely audible growl meant for your ears only.

"Tell me the truth now, toy... You've been daydreaming about Ray all this time, haven't you? Ever since you saw this place in front of you again, right? So lost in your useless fantasies about that good-for-nothing bug... You don't even notice anything around you. Hilarious!"

It was hard to tell what exactly were his motives here. Was it just another mockery, an attempt to start a dialogue with you in such an eccentric way, or something deeper and more vulnerable, hidden behind the facade of sadism and cruelty he put on?

Well, whatever it was... The answer came out of your mouth before you even had a chance to think it over.

"I won't lie to you that I don't miss him... This place is a source of many precious memories between us. But... Ray is not the cause of my clumsiness today. I... really do enjoy spending time with you here, Saeran. With you, this place feels different. Not worse... but different. Maybe I just got too lost in my thoughts about this on the way. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings in any way. I'll try to be more attentive from now on."

You smiled as you slowly lifted one of your hands to carefully cup his wrist where it rested against your face. Of course, Saeran immediately jerked his hand back, taking a step back and snorting under his breath.

"It's very arrogant of you to think that you can 'hurt' me in any way possible. And I don't need your stupid apologies anyway."

Well, that was to be expected. Still, he didn't react as harshly as one might expect, so you just nodded at him with a slight smile on your lips, deciding not to push him any further. Holding your gaze for a couple more moments, he moved to a nearest bush and jerked his head at you, silently beckoning you to him. As you approached the plant, you could make out lush buds of a blood-red hue, immediately feeling taken aback by their deep brightness in soft lighting of the night.

These were most magnificent roses you had ever seen!

"They are beautiful..."

You muttered, mesmerized by the natural beauty in front of you. It seems that only now your nose was able to catch on a sweet aroma emanating from the collection of red buds scattered in this part of the garden.

Saeran chuckled under his breath, clicking his tongue at you.

"Of course, an airhead like you would spend their time gaping at some useless weeds. I didn't bring you here to admire your precious flowers, so snap out of it!"

"-Then why are we here, Saeran?"

You asked, gently touching soft petals of a certain rose before redirecting your gaze back to him with genuine curiosity. He stepped closer, thoughtfully squeezing the same flower you had touched a moment before between his fingers.

"Do you know what they mean?"

Saeran arched an eyebrow questioningly, never taking his eyes off your face. You hummed, putting one finger to your chin in thought.

"Mmm... Yes? These are red roses... They represent love, right? Perhaps this is the most famous flower in terms of its meaning..."

You giggled, remembering hundreds of people rushing to buy lush bouquets consisting of bright red roses for their loved ones whenever a holiday was coming around. Although you had nothing against red roses in particular, it would be foolish not to admit that they were a rather cliché flower in terms of a gift.

Why did Saeran decide to stop at this particular bush though? Red roses didn't seem like the kind of flower he would like.

Saeran nodded, shrugging nonchalantly and returning his attention to a colourful bud in front of him.

"Exactly. I wouldn’t be surprised if that weakling gave them to you in his bouquets... However, did you know that red roses have another meaning to them?"

Something about that wry smirk he gave you made you hesitate for a second, not having the slightest idea where he was heading with all this.

"Really...? And what do they mean then?"

You asked, your eyes flickering from the rose back to his face, as if searching for some clue that would guide you to the right answer. Saeran's grin only grew in size, indicating satisfaction with your answer, before, in one swift motion, he plucked the flower from its stem, raising the crimson bud into the light of the lanterns. You involuntarily grimaced at the unpleasant crack that accompanied the picking of a rose, mentally noting the unceremoniousness of his movements. Of course, Saeran wouldn't be careful with some flower... You should have expected something like that from him. Taking a couple of steps back, he lifted the flower higher, giving you the opportunity to see the beautiful bud in all its details. Against your instincts, you stepped closer, waiting for his next move. This seemed to please him as he brought the rose closer to your face, clearly demanding your full attention now.

"For everyone, red roses carry a message of love and passion, because that is what people decided on a long time ago. No one suspects that these flowers are not at all as ideal and innocent as everyone would want to believe."

His grip on the stem tightened noticeably, forcing you to resist the urge to ask him to let go of the unfortunate flower. Instead, you tried to listen to his story, biting your lip and clenching both hands into fists at your sides. It seems that there is some allegory to his words, which you had not yet been able to catch on...

Saeran continued.

"For example, did you know that red roses were a symbol of war once upon a time? A representation of spilled blood belonging to hundreds of lives... Ironic, isn't it? Perhaps that is where this rose got its color from. Crimson hue of a freshly spilled warm blood. Deep crimson roses also can carry the message of revenge and hatred. Did you know that, prince/ss? I think this value suits them much better. Don't you agree on that?"

A loud joyless laugh escaped past his lips, planting a seed of unease deep in your stomach. However, your attention was focused on something completely different now.

A desperate cry broke free from your lips, interrupting the peaceful atmosphere of the serene garden.

"Saeran!" 

Without thinking twice about your actions, you rushed forward, grabbing onto his wrist yet again. This time however, it was for a completely different reason than mere minutes earlier. Where his palm tightly gripped the stem of a scarlet rose, thin droplets of blood trickled down the plant, causing you to gasp in horror. He held it right on the thorns! Not caring about a possible backlash from him, you quickly unclenched his thin fingers around the poor rose, thinking of nothing but the need to rid him of this threat as quickly as possible. You did not even pay attention to the slight prickly pain where the thorns of the flower also pierced into your skin. Instead, you just quickly put it on the nearest railing.

He was squeezing that stem so hard... Your heart clenched painfully in your chest as you got a closer look at his injured palm. Not that it was a serious injury, not at all. But you hated the sight of any injury on him, however small it may be.

You pursed your lips into a thin line, gently squeezing his hand in your own.

"Let's go to my room, I have a small first aid kit in there. Ray... gave it to me when I slipped on the stairs one day. You still have a lot of work to do... It's going to be painful if we do not take care of it properly."

Only now did you manage to carefully consider what was happening, noting the unusual silence on his part. You thought he would push you away, begin to cover you with all sorts of threats, be disgusted by your touch. However, none of this followed suit. Instead, Saeran merely yanked his hand out of your grasp, casually wiping fresh blood on his pants and huffing under his breath. Much softer than expected.

"I don't need your pity. In addition, I'm not a weakling like Ray to whine and shed tears over some stupid scratch. Who do you even take me for, huh?"

You furiously shook your head, reaching out for his hand again.

"It's not just a scratch, Saeran! And even if it was a simple scratch, my opinion would not change at all. I don't pity you, I sincerely want to help you. Please... I'll do whatever you tell me in return - just let me help you this one time. I beg you."

The last thing you wanted was to let him endure his pain like this, gritting his teeth like he always did. He used his hands all the time, dealing with injuries like this would be dreadful! You were sure that he could endure this with ease, but... You did not want him to endure pain from the very beginning. 

Not again. 

Saeran hissed, taking a step towards you threateningly and lifting your chin toward him with his good hand.

"This is the first time I hear you finally begging me for something, and it is because you want to 'help' me so much? You're definitely not right in the head, toy. I'm not Ray, you realize that!? If you hope to get him back and rid of me by such bizarre behavior - you are even more stupid than I thought!"

You frowned at the crooked grin that twisted his features into the expression of total hostility. Despite his threatening tone, you continued to look straight into his eyes, wanting to prove your sincerity one way or another.

"I know that you're not Ray... I'm thinking about you right now, Saeran, not about him. I know that you can't trust me yet... And I don't want to take away your choice on that matter. But what you're saying about my motives is not true at all. Let me prove it to you."

Please, let me in. 

Your words were dangerous, you knew that. No one can predict his reaction to something so blunt and brash coming from you. The beat of your heart echoed against your chest with such heaviness that you were afraid he'd be able to hear it at such close proximity. And yet... You didn't back down. No, you refused to back down. After all, you were ready to fight for Saeran as hard as you were ready to fight for Ray. This won't change.

To your surprise, with a hollow chuckle, a small smirk appeared on Saeran's lips, quite different from what you had seen on his face before.

"Such a foolish flower..." 

This nickname didn't come off as humiliating or demeaning to you, instead, taking on new colors that you had not yet been able to understand. But to hear his voice so calm and even... You certainly liked that.

Too afraid to destroy this fragile moment of vulnerability between you two, you just kept staring into his eyes, trying to capture every little detail in his face.

Taking the last slow step towards you, he now stood close enough for you to discern tiny marks of pale freckles scattered upon his cheeks. This made the desire to look away almost unbearable. Ugh... You could feel how hot your face was, it's embarrassing! You had never felt so vulnerable in front of Saeran before... And yet, there was not a single hint of fear or doubt in your heart towards him. Maybe he really is right.

Maybe you're not right in the head. 

But still, against all odds, when Saeran once more grabbed your hand in his and pulled you towards him, causing you to stumble awkwardly towards him. Any preconceptions floating in your head before were completely shattered. He was mesmerizing in the soft moonlight, like an angel. You couldn't see him as a monster no matter how hard you tried.

He wasn't a shield or a sword... He was just an ordinary person, he was... Saeran. And what could be more beautiful than that?

The sound of his velvety muffled voice next to your ear snapped you out of your daydreams instantly, making you feel quite embarrassed about your own thoughts just now.

"Don't think you can just tempt me with your kind words like you did with Ray, got that? If you hope that this will work, then you are deeply mistaken. But... I'll give you this one chance. After all, it won't hurt to finally put my toy to some good use for once. Be grateful for it."

Giving you another grin, he simply turned around and pulled you along without taking his hand off yours. All that escaped you was a confused 'uh-', before you were dragged further along the neat path of light sand. You blinked, finally catching up with Saeran's wide steps and looking over your shoulder at the rose bush disappearing behind you. A genuine warm smile lit up your features.

"You know, Saeran... Even though a red rose once was a symbol of war and cruelty... Now, this flower brings love into the lives of people all over the world. Even despite its thorns, it brings so much happiness and joy into our hearts every single year... Its past mistakes don't represent it today. Once upon a time, someone looked at this flower and saw something beautiful in it. I think... This definitely proves the strength and resilience of a red rose. It does fit you quite well, you know."

For a second, just for a split second, his pace faltered, and a truly shocked pair of mint eyes darted to your face, so fleetingly that you might have thought you were just imagining it. In a moment, this temporary show of weakness faded, and Saeran turned back to your path back to Magenta, huffing under his breath.

"You are speaking nonsense, toy."

However, the way his fingers curled softly around your own and how his pale cheeks flushed with a faint pink hue told you more than even a thousand words ever could

[ateezmakemeweep]

playing with fire (part 1)

word count: 23k

fluff, smut (warning: age gap, infidelity, roommate’s father)

(series masterlist)

“is there any other way you could pay?” the woman behind the desk asked, stout and soft spoken with sympathy in her eyes.

she probably has to have this conversation with students a lot, tell them that their tuition payment didn’t go through or that they’re not eligible for government support.

or that the athletics department needed more scholarship money, successfully rendering you, one of the many photography majors on campus, unable to pay for your last semester of college.

“a loan of some sort or another scholarship, maybe?” she tried to help, “i could send over an e-mail of ones you might be eligible for.”

you swallow the lump forming in your throat, attempting to calm all the anxiety and stress violently making its way through your body.

“y-yes, that would be great, thank you,” you barely manage to get out, hoping and praying to some unknown force above that you don’t burst into tears.

you were nearing the end of the fall semester, the last fall semester you ever anticipated of having, when you found out just last week that you were no longer eligible for your scholarship.

in a short, curt e-mail explaining that, while you kept up your gpa and never strayed from the requirements, they’ve maxed out their amount of funding and are looking to use that money elsewhere.

“can they do that!?” your best friend and roommate of four years yelps, gucci sunglasses atop her head as she stomps around your shared, off-campus apartment.

“they can’t seriously do that! you’ve been a straight a student since you started and now they wanna take it away?! before your last semester of senior year?!”

“eunbi, it’s not ideal but i’ve already come to terms with it,” you explain gently, leaving out the part where you did, in fact, have a break down right outside the bursar office only an hour ago. “i’ll just save up money and come back in the fall to finish.”

“that’s so not right or fair though!” she whines, something about the concept of not getting what she wants unfamiliar to your roommate.

you first met park eunbi during freshmen move in day, your two raggedy luggages and beat up backpacks an embarrassing contrast to the multiple louis vuitton travel bags she lunged in.

you were intimidated for all of three seconds, before she looked at you with a smile and threw her arms around you like a long lost best friend.

it was obvious she came from money, the way she spoke and carried herself so confidently before her parents came in and introduced themselves.

they were both gorgeous and tall and looked far too young to have an 18-year-old daughter, covered in fancy jewelry and expensive looking clothing.

her dad, who introduced himself as mr. park seonghwa, didn’t seem to bat an eye at your more humble appearance. he reminded you a lot of eunbi, honest and genuine in the way he was kind and nonjudgemental.

mrs. park seemed nice enough, too, though you could see the judgement behind her pretty eyes.

the way she sneered at your bags and looked down at your hands, so different from her and her daughter’s not covered in diamond bracelets or acrylic nails.

“did we just miss your parents?” she asked, her voice just as pretty and rich sounding as she appeared; you bet if she laughed, she’d had have that melodic, care-free laugh all rich women seem to have.

“oh, uh, yeah, i’m sorry,” you apologized, lying through your teeth with a shy smile and averting gaze - you had to move in by yourself, the same way you traveled here all alone with no one to send you off.

“it’s okay, we just thought it’d be nice to meet them,” eunbi’s father interjects, the smile on his handsome face causing your stomach to swoop - how is he a dad?

“we were gonna take eunbi to an early dinner before we left. do you wanna join us?”

“oh no, it’s okay, i’d hate to intru-”

“no, you’re coming, c’mon!” your new roommate whined, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the door. “we’ll be able to get a lot of dessert out of them. probably the whole menu if we wanted.”

and you saw that over the years, eunbi knew she could, in fact, get whatever she wanted from her parents. they had the money and the means and the fondness in their hearts for their only daughter.

but it never seemed to get to your friend.

she was always kind and thoughtful of others and never said or did anything to suggest she was just a brainless, spoiled rich kid.

even in your guy’s second year when she found out you were going to school on an academic scholarship, she didn’t care. she didn’t turn her nose up or think you were lesser than her for not having the funds; if anything, it only made her praise you more.

that you were smart and ambitious enough to work under the strict guidelines of a prestigious scholarship.

“i know it’s not fair,” you mumble, not wanting to cry or have another anxiety attack over this matter. “but it is what it is. i’ll figure it out.”

she lets out a dejected, defeated sigh so uncharacteristic of the girl, plopping down on her pink, fluffy bed and bringing you down with her.

“we’ll sell feet pics over winter break,” she concludes after a few minutes of silence, wrapping her arm around yours and curling her body into yours. “you know how much money we can get from that? and we have pretty feet,” she says, sticking her leg up and wiggling her red, painted toes.

there’s a little less tightness in your chest and a little heaviness lifted in your stomach as you let out a giggle, looking over at your best friend who truly got you through the last four years of school.

you really don’t know how you’d still be functioning if it weren’t for her.

“you’re sick.”

“i’m serious,” she giggles out, flipping on her side and causing the bed to bounce under you. “you’re still good with coming tomorrow, right? i told my parents you were.”

she had invited you to her house for the winter break this year, the girl not wanting you to spend a month alone in the apartment.

you’ve shared with her how strained your relationship with your parents has been, really, since birth. never seeing eye to eye to them and feeling as if they never had your best interests at heart.

when most kids get full ride scholarships, their parents are immensely proud. bragging about how smart they are and telling them how proud they were.

but your parents were the opposite.

they didn’t want you to up and leave them to pursue an education. they thought you were gonna stay with them forever, not go to college like them and help run the family business back home in your tiny little hometown.

it was your dream to go to college and get a degree, though, so that’s exactly what you did for yourself; but they saw it as a giant fuck you.

saw it as you thinking you were better than them and basically told you to never come back if you thought you were so much smarter and better off without them.

so you’d spent every winter or summer vacation in the dorms, this year finally being the time you accepted eunbi’s invitation to stay over - reluctantly.

“i packed all my stuff, yeah,” you mumble, hands twisted into one another nervously. “but... are you sure they’re okay with it? i don’t wanna intrude or be there if i’m not wanted.”

“y/n, please,” she whines, “my mom may be a raging bitch but you know i make the rules in that house.”

“that’s not what i meant,” you mutter immediately, looking to the girl with a small frown on your lips.

although it was no secret eunbi’s mom didn’t ever seem too fond of you, always sneering at your off-brand items or questioning the logistics of why exactly you needed a scholarship to afford college, you always tried to remain polite.

smile at her and greet her happily even though there was always a thick, palpable tension between you two.

“oh but it is,” she chuckles out, the girl far too aware of what a materialistic snob her mother is. “it’s fine, i know she’s a bitch. my dad’s just coming tomorrow anyway. i told him to bring one of the bigger cars so we can lay out in the back.”

you have to bite back a snarky comment about the fact there are multiple cars in question, though the look in your eye certainly gives it away. she can only giggle and shrug her shoulders, flopping onto her back as she tells you about how excited she is to be reunited with her boyfriend.

eunbi and jiwoon have been dating since their second year of high school, going to colleges only an hour away from each other; he was just as handsome as he was kind and good to her, leaving you with no other option but to love and support the both of them.

and you try to listen to her rambling that ensues, you really do, but your mind is swirling with some slight anxiety about staying with her family for a month.

you don’t wanna make her mom even more irritated, deal with the side eyes and passive aggressive comments and overall feeling of just not being wanted.

you don’t want eunbi to feel obligated to be with you 24/7, act as a cock block to her and her boyfriend who haven’t seen each other in almost six weeks.

and maybe, you don’t want your tiny, small, miniscule crush on mr. park to make you feel any more awkward than it does, wondering how a married man who has a daughter in college is still so handsome and alluring.

it also doesn’t help that he’s just so incredibly kind, always making everyone feel so comfortable and welcomed, it’d be hard not to just develop a little, secret crush on him.

“eunbi, who is that sexy ass man who just dropped you off?” one of your suite mates asks your roommate, everyone gathering back in front of the dorm building after winter break.

it was sophomore year and you spent a month in the quiet, almost eerie college dorms alone (apart from the ra down the hall). you were grateful for everyone to return, no matter how loud or catty things were about to become.

“yeah, for real. is that your new boyfriend? he’s hotter than the last one and i didn’t even think that was possible.”

“uhhh.. no,” eunbi says, shooting the crowd of girls with lustful eyes and curious glances a look of distaste. “that’s my dad.”

and that’s when a chorus of disbelief and inappropriate comments erupted from the group of college girls.

asking how a dad could look like that while hoping and praying he’s single.

inquiring about just how much her dad’s on campus and when’s the next time he’s gonna pick her up.

about how he’s definitely hotter than her boyfriend, with a more mature and sophisticated look than these college boys.

“are they fucking serious! like how disgusting? he’s my literal father!” eunbi rages once in the dorm room, sharing a few curse words and vulgar phrases at the girl’s before stomping away from them.

“and for them to say that shit in front of me? did they think i want to hear that?”

“i know, that was so sick,” you agree, because even though you, too, think he’s attractive, it’s not something you would ever verbalize to your friend.

“like... i know he’s younger than most dads, my parents had me when they were teenagers, but shit! how sick,” she rants, throwing down her heavy designer bags and flopping on her bed.

you can tell by the look on her face how much it truly bothers her, everyone always noticing her dad and making comments like that. she handles it well, she’s always able to handle herself well, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s something that worries her.

people getting close to her to get to her dad, even if it was teachers or other moms in elementary school or her friends when she got to college.

it’s one of the many reasons you would never give away your little crush on him - because it’s not only inappropriate and uncomfortable for her to know but there’s also no need to tell her.

because it’s not like it would go anywhere.

he’s a married man and your roommate’s father, a twisted, dark, forbidden fantasy that will stay in the walls of your head and never see the light of day - no matter how thrilling and fulfilling being with him would be.

“eunbi, your dad’s gonna be here soon,” you yell into your roommate’s doorway, met with the sound of her groaned “five more minutes!” that you’ve been hearing for the past twenty.

she was on facetime with jiwoon when you went to bed around one, briefly waking to the sound of her girlish screams or high-pitched giggles three hours later; you wouldn’t be surprised if she only went to bed a few hours ago.

“you said five more minutes thirty minutes ago,” you say, stomping your way over before smacking her over the head with a pillow. she lets out a loud sigh before swatting you away, your surprisingly fast reflexes grabbing her wrist.

she peeks one eye open as a smirk covers her morning face, looking from you all dressed up and ready in your pink pleated skirt and white thigh high stockings, down to her wrist in your hold.

“that was kinda hot. and you look good. i don’t know how to act right now.”

“shut up and get your ass out of bed,” you demand, biting back a smile as you storm out of her room.

you’d been pacing around the apartment ever since you woke up at seven a.m., more and more unsettled about staying over her house as the time drew closer.

you checked to make sure you had enough clothes and chargers and skincare products for nearly an hour, finally settling the same purple suitcase you moved in with freshmen year near the door.

you hope mrs. park doesn’t notice, remembering the way she sneered at the wonky zipper and slightly stained bottom.

you also hope you can keep yourself in check, not get too nervous or flustered by eunbi’s exorbitant wealth or a new setting you don’t feel welcomed in or her hot ass father whose bones you wanna jump.

the knock at the door completely sobers you, jumping in your spot just in time to see eunbi fly across the living room to get to the door. there’s a big, happy smile on her face, ripping open the door and greeting her father in typical eunbi fashion.

“are those for me?” she asks, snatching the red box from his hands.

excitement bubbles inside the girl as she unveils twelve chocolate covered strawberries, a speciality at one of the local dessert shops just a few miles from her home.

“you shouldn’t have, dad, really. i’m much too tired to appreciate this.”

the man can only look at his daughter with a look of disdain and affection, waking up to an extremely passive aggressive text that she’d really appreciate an early morning treat from her favorite place ever and that it’d really inspire her to be ready.

but as he can currently see, given the state of her hair and pajamas pants, it didn’t at all act as a motivator.

“then maybe i should just-” but upon her father’s hand reaching out to grab the box of strawberries, the girl brings it to her body and runs away, yelling that her bags are packed and she’s just gonna wash her face.

he looks to you with a mock annoyed expression, your heart jumping in your chest as you send him a small, polite smile.

“how do you deal with her, y/n?” he asks, a smirk on his face rising as you let out a soft, slightly forced giggle - this man looks too good for his own good at ten o’clock in the morning.

“don’t talk shit about me!” she yelps before you can even think to say something, a smile lighting up his face again before he nods his head down the hall.

“i’ll bring down your girl’s bags,” he says, his tall, large frame coming toward you making your knees feel slightly wobbly.

you swear you see his eyes roam over you for the shortest of seconds, down to your shirt and exposed legs before back to your face, until he’s looking into your eyes questioningly.

totally not like someone who just checked out their daughter’s roommate - this is what you feared, your own delusionals and attraction making your crazy little brain see something that’s not there.

“her bedroom’s down that hall?”

you resist the urge to swallow nervously, begging yourself to snap out of it and remind yourself you have to deal with the man for a month. a month of his dark, piercing eyes and bright, white smile and skin so smooth and clear, it’s far too easy to forget he’s almost forty years old.

“yeah,” you barely manage to get out. “i-i can help and bring down mine.”

“no, it’s okay,” he insists, “help in getting eunbi ready. you know she’ll delay us thirty more minutes.”

you let out another strained chuckle as you nod your head, finally letting out the breath you’ve been holding when you hear his footsteps disappear down the hall and into her room.

as long as you distance yourself from him, not look him in the eye or let any sort of idea get in your head that an older, married man could want you back, this will be fine.

it’ll be a nice, calm, relaxed break actually full of interaction and socialization opposed to your usual lonely bubble of solitude.

eunbi’s not making that very easy though, when twenty minutes later, she’s opening the back door of her father’s black g-wagen and sprawling out on the black leather seats.

“where’s y/n supposed to go, eunbi?” seonghwa asked, the fatherly tone is his voice causing eunbi to let out a huff; the only time you see eunbi’s spoiled tendencies come out is around her father, the girl knowing he’ll do anything and everything for her.

and apparently, so will you.

sitting in the front seat of her car, next to her extremely hot father you’re trying to stay calm around, while she sleeps soundly in the backseat - if she didn’t invite to stay at her home, meals and bed and transportation free, you’d say she has to owe you.

“was she up all night talking to jiwoon?” mr. park asked, the past few moments of silence just as comforting as they were terrifying. it felt awkward to you, extremely tense and full of suspense, but you knew it was completely normal.

you bite down on your lip, looking back at eunbi sleeping soundly on the seat, even prepared with a fuzzy white blanket. you let out a soft giggle when you see her mouth open, the slightest bit of drool hanging from her mouth and threatening to spill on the dark leather.

“she might’ve been,” you mutter, a breathy laugh leaving her father that causes you to sneak a glance at him.

there’s not a hint of a wrinkle or imperfection on his glowing skin, black hair hanging in his face and red lips quirked into a content smile. that’s something you always noticed about him, despite his dark appearance and looming figure, he always appears to be happy.

smiles and laughs and never gives anyone without his same wealth a dirty glance - he treats everyone the same and that’s another reason you’ve taking a liking to him, not just because he’s the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

“y/n?” he asks, your intrusive thoughts being ripped away at the sound of his voice calling your name.

your eyes move to his and he’s watching you in slight amusement, a rampant blush creeping up on your cheeks at the way you’ve been caught. you’re quick to look away, shake your head and let out an awkward chuckle and apology.

you miss the way his eyes roam your side profile, a delightful smirk and feeling in his chest blooming before he speaks again.

“how was your semester?”

“it was good,” you say, hands placed nervously in your lap. “a lot of work on top of an internship but it was good.”

“and you girls are almost done,” he hums lowly, one hand atop the steering wheel while his eyes focus on the highway in front of him. “eunbi’s been talking about a combined graduation party since the moment you guys met.”

you let out a small laugh as you remember eunbi’s plan since your second semester of freshmen year, ignoring the twinge of sadness in your stomach.

you could’ve never anticipated delaying your college career when you first received your scholarship, happy and proud and eternally grateful for the opportunity.

but you suppose you’re lucky enough to have gotten this far, and delaying one last semester is nothing compared to people who never get to go to college - but it still makes you feel upset.

you think you have the right to feel disappointed and sad, the lingering sick feeling in your stomach making you feel nauseous.

“is it okay if i open the window for a second?” you mumble to mr. park, the man looking over your face.

he presses down on the passenger window button immediately, your face met with cold air as relief floods through your body.

“are you okay? do you get car sick?” he asks, remembering how much eunbi used to get car sick (on the rare occasion she wasn’t passed out during a road trip).

“not usually,” you mumble, resting your head on the side of the door.

then again, i’m not usually freaking out about making tuition money or repressing my violent attraction to my roommate’s father.

seonghwa watches as you close your eyes for a few moment, allowing the cold, windy air to hit your face. he couldn’t help but notice the pinkish tint to your cheeks, suppressing the urge for his eyes and thoughts to wander.

you’re a college girl in the prime of her life and his daughter’s best friend, he’d be a fool to think you were blushing and nervous because of him - but he also doesn’t remember you looking like.... this.

so pretty and dressed up and pink in the face as you check him out with a soft and curious look in your eye.

“maybe try to take a nap,” he suggests, his gaze lingering back onto the road so he doesn’t look at your exposed legs. “i’ll pull off at a rest stop to get you ginger ale.”

“that’s not necessary, mr. park,” your sweet voice says, something about it causing his insides to jump - he definitely doesn’t remember you sounding like that. “i’ll be okay. just need the window open for a little longer.”

you spend the next few minutes with the cold, december wind blowing through the car, your back pressed against the comfortable seat behind you. a chill runs through your body, goosebumps rising on your exposed thighs, but it feels better than the alternative.

potentially panicking or vomiting due to current stress of your life.

your gaze shifts to the man beside you, whether it be to check him out or ask if he’s cold unknown to you.

“are you okay with the-”

the words are stuck in your throat when you see his eyes aren’t on the road but your exposed, goose-bumpy thighs, the white lace of your thigh high stockings and pink skirt leaving little to the imagination.

you wish you could see the look in his eye, if it’s judgemental and shameful or full of lust and curiosity. if he’s wondering what you have on just a few inches under your skirt and if that’s something he even thinks about.

or maybe he’s just looking because it’s there - your skirt blowing in the wind and him caught off guard by the sight right there in his passenger seat.

“um, i think i’m good now,” you mumble, watching from your peripheral as he shifts in his seat and tightens his hold on the steering wheel.

“alright, let me know if you wanna stop.”

you bite down on your lip as you nod your head, keeping your eyes on the view in front of you.

the faint sounds of eunbi snoring behind you act as a way to ground you, remind you that these thoughts and feelings you’re having can’t stay.

maybe you have to get it our of your system now, take all the looks you can and feel all the hopefulness your delusional brain needs until you act as if eunbi’s father is a mean, disgusting, grotesque man.

not someone who gets your heart and body pounding.

you’re not sure how many songs play on the radio until you both are talking again, seonghwa looking in the rearview mirror to see his daughter still passed out on the seats.

“do you think she’ll sleep the whole time?”

he hope for his sake, she doesn’t.

you look back at eunbi sleeping soundly, the drool previously trickling down her mouth successfully making a pool on the black leather.

“probably,” you chuckle out lightly. “i have a feeling she went to bed around six.”

“shit,” he laughs out, remembering the days he used to be able to pull all nighters in college or dreaded the idea of waking up in the morning. “i can’t remember the last time i was able to stay up past one.”

“you’re not even that old, mr. park,” you tease, not sure where you got the balls to say that and feeling, at least for a few seconds, that you overstepped; but then he lets out a deep, amused chuckle and it causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“not that old, huh?” he quips, your tooth sinking into your lip at the tone of his voice. “you know i’m turning 40 in a few months, right?”

you crane your neck to look at the man in the driver’s seat, swallowing thickly when you see his eyes are already on you. there’s a certain type of lightness and teasing in them that you’ve never seen before, the man always happy and jovial but never like this.

never looking so... teasing and playful.

“yeah,” you say with a growing smirk, not being able to help your own nervous excitement. “that doesn’t seem too bad.”

the deep, low chuckle that leaves him causes your stomach to swoop, eyes wide and the small smile on your face causing him to look over you once more.

it’s shameless and bold but neither of you seem to care in that moment.

“i’ll keep that in mind,” he says, deep brown eyes piercing through yours before his face turns teasing and.. appropriate.. “the next time eunbi tries to call me an old man or something.”

“right,” you chuckle out, cheeks burning and heart pounding as you allow yourself to break eye contact.

the ride to eunbi’s house is just over two hours, hoping and praying that it goes by quickly - because you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to be alone, or mostly alone, with him.

you’re thinking too much into his words and his gaze and the way he makes you feel, making you silly enough to believe that, maybe, a part of him wants you too.

the second you arrived at eunbi’s, you had already felt unwelcomed.

not only because of mrs. park, who just about sneered at your presence in her exquisite home, but because of the dozens of other socialites in the immaculately white living room.

it looked and felt almost like a hospital. a white color scheme with black accents, extremely cold and spotless - the only bit of color was in eunbi’s room where it felt like you could actually breathe.

“i’m sorry, i told her not to throw her fucking gathering today,” eunbi complained, grumpy from her nap but still happy to finally be home.

“a bunch of stuck up snobs, i swear to god. they either have to get the stick lodged so far up their asshole removed or get dicked down by their lousy excuses of-”

“eunbi,” you hear her father’s deep voice reprimand, the girl not even feeling the slightest bit of shame or embarrassment for talking that way in front of her father.

“oh, c’mon, dad, you know it’s true!” she whines in a whispered tone. “they’re the worst! and she knew me and y/n were coming today, do you really think that wasn’t a coincidence?”

because, as far as eunbi thinks, she has sinking suspicions that her mom did this solely to make you uncomfortable.

she had already been hesitant to let you stay in the first place, had eunbi not gone full on bitch mode and stubbornly proclaimed she’d spend the break with you at the apartment.

but you didn’t have to know that.

“i don’t care, it’ll just be my first christmas without my family, mom, who cares about that,” she had said, all types of manipulative and toxic behavior that she learned from the best.

she’s sure her mother was sweet and good at one point in her life, she wouldn’t have ended up with her father in the first place if she wasn’t, but money changes people.

wealth and greed and having the power to get anything you want because you flash a stack of money around or write out a check.

“i told her to have them out by dinner,” he said, his eyes moving from eunbi to you, standing there with tense shoulders and a shy, uncomfortable look on your face.

“you’re more than welcomed here, y/n,” he said, his voice low and full of kindness as he stands in eunbi’s doorway. “don’t worry about it, okay?”

you resist the urge to pout at the touched feeling in your chest, looking from the man to eunbi who’s nodding at her dad’s words.

“thank you, mr. park,” you say, a phrase he swears has never effected him this deeply.

and because of that, he’s quick to haul ass out of there. tells you guys that dinner will be ready around seven and to come down whenever.

you and eunbi spend that time in her room to unpack both of your things and watch movies, her king sized bed nearly lulling you to sleep until her loud squeal and bounce of the bed causes you to jump in shock.

“y/n, don’t be mad at me please,” she whines directly in your face, all wide-eyed and cutesy as she looks at you with mock innocence.

“what did you do?” you mumble tiredly, pushing her away with the smallest of sneers.

“i’ll be back for dinner, i promise, but... is it okay if i go to jiwoon’s for a little?” she asks, cocking her head to the side before shimming closer to you. “i have to get railed so bad.”

“jesus christ, eunbi,” you snort, pushing her away again and burying your face in the pillow - you’ve never met someone who overshares as much as she does.

she plops down on her back with an unabashed giggle, popping right back up like an annoying little dog and looking at you with a smile.

“of course you can go, i’m not gonna hold you hostage here,” you say when she pulls your face away, looking at you so expectantly and sweetly, you couldn’t say no if you wanted.

“okay, but i don’t want you thinking that i’m gonna ditch you this whole time. i’m really not, y/n,” she pouts, knowing that was one of the reasons you were apprehensive about coming - that and her bitch of a mother. “i just miss him.”

a pout falls on your face as you look at eunbi and the genuine look on her face.

“bi, i’m serious, go. i want you to,” you insist, moving a piece of her tangled hair away from her face. “we were just gonna be up here anyway. i’ll probably take a nap, i was about to fall asleep before your loud ass-”

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says, pulling you into a tight hug before jumping off her bed and rushing toward her door. “i’ll be back a lot more calm and happy. oh, why, you ask? because i’m about to get my back blown the fuck ou-”

you thank god for your impeccable aim, promptly whacking eunbi in the face with one of her pillows.

“get out of here,” you groan, eunbi throwing the pillow back with a smile on her face.

“sweet dreams, y/n!”

you let out a sigh when she closes her door, falling back onto her bed with a soft plop.

you were definitely tired from your anxious pacing this morning but aren’t sure how much sleep you’re gonna get right now, tonight or for the rest of the month.

knowing that you’re unwelcomed by one person, extremely attracted to another and silently betraying the person you should be most loyal too - but as long as it just stays in your head, and you remind yourself that there’s no way mr. park could feel anything back to you, it’ll be fine.

you’ll just get by quietly and smoothly at dinners or in passing through the hallways, enjoy eunbi’s comfortable king-sized bed and the fact that you don’t have to spend yet another holiday alone.

reruns of drake and josh play in the background, keeping your giggles quiet as drake soaks his feet in lizard pee. you feel your eyes grow heavy the more episodes you watch, the shitty laugh track and loud, bickering brothers eventually lulling you to sleep.

it takes about five knocks on the door to eventually stir you, your eyes fluttering open to see mr park’s figure in the doorway. you can only stare at the man as you adjust to him, taking in his tall, slim figure just a few feet away from you.

taking in the way his white shirt clings to his body, broad shoulders and slim torso on display in a way that makes you wish you could see, just for a second, what he looks like underneath that a-

“sorry if i woke you,” his deep voice hums, the slightest bit of amusement in his voice that causes your cheeks to warm. “i didn’t think you’d be sleeping at seven p.m.”

“no, it’s okay,” you stammer out, sitting up in eunbi’s bed. “i... i don’t even know when i fell asleep, to be honest.”

he looks at the screen to see drake and josh playing, a smirk pulling at his lips as his gaze shifts back to you.

“it’s funny,” you defend with a mumble, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth that causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach - he’s far too handsome, everything about him is just far too attractive, even in his laugh.

“that’s what eunbi claims,” he says, remembering all the years of his daughter forcing him to watch ridiculous shows.

despite his daughter’s outgoing nature, she never had a lot of friends growing up.

there was once a small group of girls she hung out but they quickly drifted apart throughout high school, leaving eunbi really only with him and her boyfriend.

the boyfriend who seonghwa really didn’t wanna like out of principal but seeing that the kid really does love his daughter quickly coming around.

“speaking of, where is she? jiwoon’s?”

“yeah,” you tell him, settling back into the pillows and stretching your arms out in front of you. “she said she’d be back for dinner.”

“well she’s wrong, as usual, because dinner’s ready,” he quips playfully, the smirk pulling at his lips causing you to smile back at him. you swallow nervously when his eyes roam over your face, your own gaze trained on him before you see his mouth start to move again.

“do you want me to bring some up for you? or you’ll come down?”

he can see the apprehension on your face immediately, fear crossing your eyes and your arms folding into each other uncomfortably. he tries to ignores the way your soft white sweater dips by your chest, a hint of perky cleavage just barely showing that causes his dick to twitch in his pants.

he doesn’t know when this happened.

he didn’t know when he became a pervy old man who checked out college girls with his wife just downstairs and the knowledge that you’re his daughter’s friend.

“i’ll come down,” you say, surprising him just as he was about to insist he brings some up for you. “she’ll probably be back soon anyway.”

but five minutes pass by, then ten, then twenty and eunbi’s still not home - it’s just you, seonghwa and mrs. park at the long, glass dining room table.

white chairs with high backs and comfortable cushions to match the immaculate, hospital-like color scheme and environment; truthfully, you’ve never been more terrified to eat a plate of chicken parmesan in your life.

the sound of utensils scraping on the china and the crackling of the fireplace a room over are the only noises heard throughout the home, mrs. park taking a swig of wine and gently placing it on the table with a light clack.

“so, y/n,” she finally says, breaking the tension with her rich-sounding, nasally voice. “how has school been, dear? you’re an... art major, am i remembering that correctly?”

“uh, photography, yeah,” you smile tensely, trying to ignore the judgment in her voice.

“ah, so you never switched over to business then,” she hums, her wine glass back in hand as her dark, gorgeous eyes look you over.

you bite the inside of your cheek as you feel a pink flush cover your face, faintly remembering your roommate saving you a few semesters ago when her mom was grilling you about picking a more practical and useful major.

“she can do whatever she wants, mom,” eunbi eventually snapped, “whether she does business or photography or even liberal arts is none of your business.”

“no,” you mutter out, dropping your gaze to look over the intricate pattern on the table. “i thought about it but it wasn’t something i wanted.”

“so you didn’t want something practical? or useful?” she asks, using those two words yet again while cocking her head to the side with a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“a business degree would’ve been great, y/n. everyone always has connections to somewhere, you could’ve found a job right out of college.”

you bite back the urge to tell her no. that not everyone has connections to multi billion dollar companies or numbers of ceos in their phones or the ceo of a tech company as their next door neighbors.

but instead, the same way eunbi defended you against her mother, seonghwa does against his wife. gives you a soft, sympathetic side eye before placing his larger hand on his wife’s.

“there are tons of jobs in photography too, honey,” seonghwa says, his voice so warm and soft and welcoming compared to hers even despite the slight edge in it.

“and she can travel to build her portfolio. it’s a fantastic opportunity to explore the world and make money. is there a particular type of photography you’d wanna do?”

you feel yourself relax slightly, a small smile on your face as you nod your head toward the striking couple.

“i would love to be a wedding photographer actually,” you mumble, a romantic at heart who’s read and watched far too many novels and romcoms.

“taking pictures of all those moments would be really fun, i think. like when the groom sees the bride for the first time or just everyone dancing and having fun. weddings are usually happy and i like to photography happy things.”

“that sounds perfect for you then,” seonghwa smiles, his brown eyes lighting up and making you feel even more at ease.

“i think you’ll do great, y/n. and you only have a semester left, right? maybe you and eunbi you could travel for the summer before you start your jobs.”

you ignore the swish of dread and anxiety in your stomach at the mention of next semester, instead choosing to smile softly and nod your head at the man.

“i think she’d love that,” you giggle out, knowing damn well your roommate already has an extensive list of cities she wants to visit before ‘real life begins.’

“and how do your parents feel about everything?” mrs. park asks, making your stomach twist with even more dread and discomfort. “are they proud?”

you wish you could fold in on yourself right now, swallowing the growing, nervous lump in your throat.

because not only is she making you incredibly uncomfortable right now, with her harsh looks and topic of conversation and snide little tone, she just mentioned the people you haven’t spoken to since you left home at eighteen.

you don’t know what to say, you have the slightest bit of concern you might throw up on her, when the loud, chipper voice of your roommate floats through the cold, silent house.

“i’m back!” her chipper voice yelps, sock-clad feet running through the house and sliding on the marble floor. “what’d you guys make?”

“you’re late, eunbi,” seonghwa mumbles warningly, an innocent smile on her face as she picks up her plate of food and plops down next to you.

“am i? or are you girls just early?”

“i’m not a girl.”

“it’s a figure of speech, father,” eunbi says, smiling playfully at her father before turning to you.

she’s able to tell the second she sees your face that you’re uncomfortable, the pink flush still lingering on your face and the tenseness of your shoulders making her frown.

“i’m sorry you were alone with them,” she whispers, genuine sorrow in her wide, mock-innocent eyes. “i got held up. or... down, rather, but i tried to leave on time. i promise.”

“uh huh, i bet,” you mumble back, fighting back a smile despite your discomfort.

because eunbi has always had something about her that made it impossible to stay mad at her, her carefree, unfiltered way of communicating that made being her friend so easy.

even if, sometimes, you wanted to kill her.

“so mom,” eunbi quips, turning her soft gaze to you before looking over her mother.

“what was with your little group of bitchy housewives today? you couldn’t have had them over any other day? what kind of christmas disgrace is that?”

“eunbi...” seonghwa chastises lowly, the girl with her brow already quirked and eyes narrowed.

“i can do whatever i want in my home, eunbi. are you forgetting how things work around here?”

“how could i, when i’m met with thirty middle-aged women with botox out the ass in my home the second i get back from school?” she asks, “you didn’t think me and y/n would wanna spend the break, like, resting?”

“you ran off to your boyfriend’s the second you got here,” mrs. park bites back, her glass of wine empty as she pinches the bridge of her nose. “left your friend all alone in your room. what did i tell you about leaving... guests unattended in the house?”

the accusation and direction of conversation is quickly making you feel uncomfortable, your head turned down in your lap and leaving your cheeks aflame.

she’s making it sound like you would steal something in her home for christ’s sake, like you’re not a guest who’s dreaded coming here due to this very reason.

you block out the back and forth between eunbi and her mom, a few more seconds of yappy feminine voices before a deeply spoken “enough,” echoes through the dining room.

you even look up at the sound, watching as mr. park’s eyes rest on you. his eyes narrow as he takes in the sight of your red cheeks, his gaze shifting from you to his daughter to his wife beside him.

“y/n’s here for a month and we’re gonna make her feel welcomed the entire time. if you two are gonna fight, don’t do it at the dinner table.”

“but dad, she totally-”

“maybe you should’ve taught your daughter-”

“no more,” seonghwa growls, a sense of finality in his tone that causes the room to go silent.

you can tell your friend is unbothered by the reprimanding, shoveling food into her mouth and sipping from her wine glass completely unbothered.

sometimes you wish you could be more like her, so unfazed by conflict or loud voices or the strained relationship with a parent.

eunbi was always open with you about the rocky relationship with her mother, saying more than once to you that if it weren’t for her father, she would’ve long cut off any contact with her.

she had never really been there for eunbi growing up, having nannies and chefs take care of her for most of her life - it was her nanny of fifteen years who taught her how to walk and talk, was there with her for all the milestones she met through infancy, childhood and even adolescence.

but even then, eunbi was nonchalant and carefree about it.

saying that she’s not gonna waste her time being upset over it when she knows her mom doesn’t think about her at all. it makes your heart hurt for eunbi, grateful that the girl at least has a good relationship with her father and boyfriend.

and you, of course. you consider her your best friend and you know she does the same - even if sometimes, you wanna pull her hair out.

“i’m gonna go the food store tomorrow, eunbi, so if you and y/n want anything, just text it to me.”

“oooh can we come!” she squeals, knocking her arm into yours like an excited kid in a candy store. “we wanna try making our cookies again.”

“you’re gonna bake?” the girl’s father asks, a look of doubt on his face that causes you to bite back a smile.

“no, we’re gonna bake,” she corrects with snark, “y/n measures the ingredients and stirs, i put it in the oven and watch.”

“right, silly me,” the man hums, a smirk pulling at his lips the more he sees his daughter get irritated. “but of course you girls can come,” he says, his eyes flicking to you for just a few seconds too long.

you can only look back with a small smile, a quiet “thank you,” leaving your mouth that you’re positive he doesn’t catch.

(he did).

you help clean your plate off before you and eunbi go up to her room later that night, once her door’s closed and she’s sitting down shooting her a look of disdain.

“i know you’re mad, okay, i’m sorry, i really am!” she whines, holding her arms out for you to come over. “i tried to leave but he wouldn’t let me. he just kept wanting to-”

“i don’t need the details you sick freak!” you yelp, going over and plopping down on her bed. “ugh, it was just... so awkward. your mom hates me. she was utterly perturbed that i didn’t switch my major to business.”

“ugh, she’s a crotchety bitch i swear,” eunbi says, falling onto her back and looking at you with sorrow in her eyes. “i’m sorry, i really am. i won’t leave you alone with her again, i promise.”

you quirk an unconvinced eyebrow her way, eyes full of doubt and distrust before she throws herself on you and squeals that, at least, now you can have a scary movie marathon without any interruptions.

it seems you also probably should’ve made her promise last night that you’d never be alone with her father either; it didn’t even occur to you at the time, not thinking that she’d really ditch you two days in a row.

but alas, jiwoon’s car pulled up when all three of you were walking out of the house to the g-wagon for the trip to the food store, her shooting you an apologetic look and whispered condolences in your ear.

“i’m technically not breaking my promise because my dad’s nice,” she mumbled, the feeling in your body more nervous and aroused than it is angry and upset.

but she could’t know that.

“and when i break your head? then what, eunbi?”

“i love you,” she giggles in your ear, the playful tone of your voice letting her know she got off the hook again. “it’ll be fine. my dad’s a good man. he wouldn’t ever talk shit to you the way my mom does.”

little does she know how much you want her dad to talk shit to you.

talk to you in a way that’s casual and playful and teasing, like the hints of it you’ve seen in the car or in eunbi’s room when you were alone last night. you just want him to look at you with the slightest bit of something, even though it’s wrong.

not only because of his wife, no matter how big a bitch she is, but because of-

“do you still wanna come with me?”

seonghwa’s voice pulls you away from your thoughts, looking to the man dressed in a long, black jacket and expensive loafers. he looks far too fancy and delectable for a trip to the grocery store.

eunbi is long gone by now, her giggles and carefree run down the driveway and into her boyfriend’s car leaving you and mr. park alone, with only the blue sky and crisp air as your witness.

him looking you over hopefully, with a twinge of teasing and longing in his gaze.

you looking at him full of nerves and excitement, biting down on your lip as you nod your head timidly.

“s-sure, if that’s okay,” you say, looking from him to his car just a few feet away. “it’d be better than sitting in eunbi’s room again.”

a handsome smile crosses his face as he nods his head, heart pounding and throat constricting as you watch him walk toward the car.

he walks around the front of a smaller, sleek suv, your own eyes watching in confusion until he opens the passenger side door.

you can only stare blankly, head cocked to the side as you really start to wonder if this man is about to make you drive his car costing more than your life.

“are you getting in, y/n?” he asks, an amused smile pulling at his lips - almost like he’s making fun of your nervous, intimidated disposition.

you shake your head of the confusion, cheeks flushing in the cold december air as you do an awkward jog toward the car. you dip in beside him as your body hits the cool leather, craning your neck to shoot him a small, grateful smile.

your faces are closer than you anticipated, breath catching in your throat as his gaze watches you closely.

he doesn’t say a word or move a muscle, taking a few moments for his eyes to roam your face and body before mumbling to buckle up.

you wish you knew how long the drive to the store would be, as it would slightly settle you and the thick, awkward tension in the air. it appears to be enough time for the heat to go on, warm air blowing from the vents before he asks if you want your seat heater on.

“oh, sure, thank you,” you mumble, a smile quirking on his lips as he presses down on the small circular button.

more silence lingers in the air as the trees outside you pass by, the bright winter sun and blue sky not making it feel like christmas is only a few days away.

you can’t remember the last time the holidays have actually felt like it, though,  all the lonely days blending into one and feeling as if they were the same.

maybe this year, because you’re surrounded by eunbi and her family, it’ll feel less lonely. maybe you’ll actually enjoy yourself and find that you’ve missed out when you denied her invitation each and every-

“i’m sorry about my wife last night.”

those are words you don’t expect so they shock you even more, looking at the older man beside you with a wide-eyed, confused gaze. his dark eyes are expressionless and casual on the road, one hand on the wheel while the other rests beside him.

“i... what do you mean?” you ask, knowing damn well you understand his apology - and given the unamused look he throws you, he knows you’re full of shit too.

“i don’t think she means to judge you so harshly,” he begins, his deep, smooth voice full of sympathy and softness. “it’s not her place to question your education or major, so i just want to apologize for her.”

“that’s not necessary, mr. park,” you insist, shaking your head as a small, breathy chuckle leaves you. “and it’s not like i haven’t heard it before.”

because no one is ever too confident in any of the arts being your main source of income or profession; even your own parents, although it really wouldn’t matter what you would have chosen, haven’t been supportive.

and you especially haven’t missed the looks of pity or distaste when you tell people on campus or at parties in the frat house, future business leaders or stem majors looking at you like just said the sky is hot pink.  

“well that’s just ridiculous,” seonghwa says, ripping you from your thoughts so you can roam over his strong, handsome face. “it’s a great field to work in and something you’re passionate about. that’s what matters most.”

he can tell by the way your cheeks flush that you’re slightly embarrassed and he can’t help but find it endearing, licking over his lips as his mind begins to wander.

wonder about what other parts of you could flush so easily or what else he could say to really make the pinkness deepen.

“i guess,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders as you look at the passing oak trees and mansions.

“and... what you said last night about traveling to build my portfolio,” you begin, shocked by the words continuing to leave your mouth. “that’s something i’ve thought about doing. i think it’d be really fun, regardless if i did wedding photographer or not.”

“yeah?” he asks, the smile on his face causing your head to jump. “i think that’d be good, too. where would you wanna go first?”

your lips purse to the side as you think it over, a love for traveling anywhere you could but having an especially strong pull toward the tropics.

“cancun or the maldives,” you answer, the financial aspect of the trip leaving it most likely impossible for you. “it’ll probably never happen, because i’d have to sell my first born, but i’ve always wanted to go somewhere like that. somewhere tropical and fun.”

seonghwa bites his tongue about his multiple trips there, instead letting out a chuckle that causes butterflies to erupt. his eyes are too drawn to your body in the front seat, legs crossed and arms over your lap politely.

“you never know,” he hums, ripping his gaze away before you catch his gawking. “you might get there one day, after being the best wedding photographer the city has to offer.”

“oh, please,” you glggle out, cheeks flushing despite the absurdity of the comment.

you catch the smile that creeps on his face, the same handsome, carefree smile you saw in the car last time.

you try not to let it get to you, let your brain convince you that maybe he likes hanging out with you alone as much as you like it too.

“i’m serious,” he says, the earnest tone of his voice slipping into dad mode in a way he doesn’t even realize. “your parents must be proud.”

you bite down on your lip as you let out a soft, almost scornful, chuckle, a quietly mumbled “yeah,” leaving your mouth that causes his eyebrows to pull together.

he always thought it was a little suspicious that in the four years eunbi has known you, she’s never told him about your parents; as far as he knows, she’s never even seen them.

“she has her scholarship and stuff so she doesn’t really need them,” his daughter said one day, the two of them discussing why you were spending yet another break alone in the apartment.

“but they don’t want her home for the holidays? you told her she was welcomed, right?”

“ugh, about a thousand times,” his daughter groans in the seat, throwing herself against the window dramatically. “i basically begged her, dad, but she said she didn’t wanna intrude. i’m telling you it’s because mom is the biggest fucking-”

“eunbi...”

“you know it’s true!” she squeals, seonghwa biting his tongue in an effort to be the bigger and better parent. “i don’t even know why you guys got married.”

but that’s what happens with teen pregnancies and rich families. how they were destined to marry anyway, due to their parents companies and stupid business politics.

it was one drunken night at his dad’s company party and a broken condom that sealed his fate with finality - made him go from a single, carefree high school student to a married businessman with a child just two short years later.

his wife was good at one point he likes to think, remembering she was gorgeous and sassy and not like the other girls who would drop to their knees for him.

but marriage and a child and just life quickly caught up with them, already trapped in a loveless, pointless marriage by the time he hit 25.

he’d be lying if he said he didn’t stay for eunbi, that they both didn’t stay for eunbi throughout her childhood and now just grew too used to being an unhappy married couple who live separate lives.  

there was never any reason for them to divorce though, no one serious in his or his wife’s lives and the hassle of money and disputing houses and cars and assets far too draining.

“i don’t believe i’ve ever met them,” seonghwa says, pulling into the store parking lot to see it’s less crowded than he suspected it’d be. “what do they do?”

you couldn’t imagine anything more unbearable than disclosing to your friend’s hot dad who you may or may not have feelings for about the messed up relationship with your parents.

it just screams daddy issues, which might say a lot about your very attraction to him in the first place.

“they run a little restaurant back in my home town. it’s about three hours from campus, which is why i don’t really go home for breaks.”

seonghwa hums lowly, nodding his head as he looks at you at a stop sign.

you’re unnerved by the way his eyes roam you, like he can see signs of you being uncomfortable about your parents and wants to know why - but why would he care? you’re only his daughter’s roommate.

“do you miss seeing them?”

you lick over your lips nervously, watching as his eyes darken every so slightly.

he watches each and every of your movements carefully, so in tune with your reactions and breaths you can just feel yourself getting more and more worked up.

not in the slightest, you wanna say. i’ll probably never see them again and have no qualms about it, mr. park.

“i suppose,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders as you apprehensively meet his gaze.

“you suppose?” he asks, concern etched on his face. “when was the time you’ve seen them? since your freshmen year?”

you avert your gaze as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, in no way wanting to have this discussion at ten a.m. when, much to your pleasure, an impatient car behind beeps at seonghwa’s mercedes.

his dark eyes move to the rearview mirror, narrowed and irritated in a way you can’t help but think is sexy, before he puts his foot off the break and turns into the parking lot.

“i think this person’s leaving,” you mutter when you notice another car go in reverse, seonghwa snatching the spot before the impatient, crotchety lady behind him could steal it.

you can’t help but smirk as seonghwa eyes her when you get out of the car, giving him a look that’s half judgmental and half amused.

“what? she beeped at me.”

“aren’t you supposed to be, like, an adult?”

he rolls his eyes as he takes a cart from the pile, nodding his head for you to go in front and “stop talking back to an elder.”

you can’t help but smirk at his playfulness, taking your spot in the front and pretending as if you always move your hips this much when you walk casually; you would’ve felt embarrassed, had you not turned around a few moments later to see his eyes already on you.

“where to first, mr. park?”

he has to bite back the groan threatening to leave his mouth, reminding himself to keep himself in check this month - starting tomorrow.

“depends, y/n,” he hums, voice far too deep and sultry to be surrounded by innocent bystanders in the grocery store. “what do you want?”

words are caught in your throat and you can only stare dumbly, your plan quickly back firing as he appears to do the same - but it’s gotta be in your head, right?

regardless, it quickly humbles you in the form of a small, unsure shrug.

it’s how you two start walking up and down the aisles, seonghwa putting in what he remembers and items on his mental list while also insisting you put in anything you want.

your arms bump ever so often, softly apologizing and acknowledging it the first few times before you both realize it may be happening on purpose.

you stick close to him when the aisles get tight and crowded, his deep voice telling you to “go ahead,” causing you to swallow shakily. you feel the presence of his hand just a few inches from your hips, lingering and hovering but never fully touching.

it’s finally when you’re in the bread aisle, seonghwa a few feet away talking to the man at the bakery counter, that you decide to put something in the cart.

you would usually never accept someone’s offer to buy you something, already feeling bad about staying with them rent free and eating their meals without compensating.

but the brioche loaf brand is one of your favorites, only sold on occasion at the corner store near campus.

you press up on your tippy toes to grab the bag of bread, stretching your arm up with all your might. the plastic slips through your fingers just as you’re about to snatch it down, letting out an annoyed huff as you pulled down your sweater dress.

you mumble your annoyances before trying again, back on the tips of your toes with your arm raising when you feel a hand on the small of your back.

it’s large and warm and seeping through the thin material of your burgundy dress, a snappy protest about to leave your mouth when you catch mr. park’s face in your peripheral.

there’s a content look on his face as he takes the bag with ease, holding it above your head as his hand moves from your back to your waist with a gentle touch.

you look at him with wide eyes and a pounding heart, his hand on your waist so foreign and strange but... good. something you didn’t even realize you’d been craving until it happened.

the strength and warmth of his hand, though if you think about it just enough, you can feel the weight of his wedding band through the fabric.

“is this what you wanted?”

his voice is deep and low as he speaks to you and you alone, your eyes raising to see him staring down at you. you can’t make out the expression in them, just the darkness in his eyes and the frantic beating of your heart.

you can’t even being to understand the context of his words right now because, yes, this is exactly what you’ve wanted - but he doesn’t know that, right?

“w-what?”

he can’t help the smirk that crosses his face, all sorts of pride and satisfaction and arousal coursing through his veins at your current disposition.

“the bread,” he says, stepping back and holding it out to you. “is this the one you wanted?”

your eyes narrow as you look at him, the smirk on his face, the amusement in his gaze, the playfulness that’s radiating off him - is he fucking with you?

“oh... i... yes,” you finally say, coming to your senses and not allowing yourself to think this way anymore. “that’s the one. i hope it’s okay.”

“of course,” he hums, placing the bread in the cart before going back to the front handles. “you can get anything you want, i already told you that.”

you nod dumbly as you follow beside him, seonghwa picking more things off the shelves and muttering the list to himself as you try to get your shit together.

because yes, you’re attracted to him and yes, you’ve found yourself alone with him for more than two days in a row and yes, there’s been some lingering looks and touches but that doesn’t mean anything.

you can’t let your own deluded thoughts and desires get in the way of reality.

the reality that he’s your friend and roommate’s married father and you’re a college student. he doesn’t want you just as much as you shouldn’t want him so what’s the problem here?

maybe it’s that you’re a 22-year-old woman who’s only been on a handful of dates.

that the last time you made out with someone was when you were drunk and dared to kiss the first guy that walked through the bar (luckily, somewhat attractive and surprisingly polite).

that, maybe, you’re so horribly touch-starved and aching for affection, you’re trying to find it in a hot father figure who’s just as kind as he sexy - and that, you think, is the second most tragic thing here.

because the first would absolutely be thinking that any of this, any of these stares or touches or coincidences of eunbi leaving you two alone, means something.

means that maybe this break is for you two is create an attraction and build some sort of bond and-

“y/n.”

you’re barely able to register seonghwa’s voice before his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling your body into his taller one and having you pressed up right against him.

you were so lost in thought of him that you didn’t see the older women skirting her cart around the aisle quickly, phone pressed to her ear as she yells to her husband about the christmas ham.

you’re not even sure if she shoots you a look of sorrow or utters any apology, too consumed and distracted by the feeling and proximity of mr. park.

his arm wrapped around you, your body pressed flush up against him, his neck craned down to look at you with a building... something in his eyes. playfulness and teasing but also something darker, something that makes your stomach swoop and renders you unable to move.

“are you always so clumsy and distracted?” he mumbles lowly, his deep voice quiet for only you two to hear - like he knows even in a sea of strangers, he has to keep these interactions quiet.

“what would you do if i wasn’t here to help you, y/n?”

i wouldn’t have been distracted in the first place, you’re tempted to say - but you certainly don’t wanna open that can of worms, especially not in the middle of this grocery store with the way your heart is pounding.

“i... i’m sorry, i was distracted,” you mutter, playing up the damsel in distress just a little bit. “my mistake, mr. park.”

he licks over his lips, swearing his name just being spoken has never effected him like this. he doesn’t even know where this attraction came from, seeing you leave the dorm building yesterday morning and something in his body jumping at the sight of you.

maybe it’s just showing how unhappy he really is with his life, living day to day to just work. hang out with his friends and go to sleep alone - he doesn’t remember the last time his wife touched him, looked at him like she wanted him or made any move to be with him.

he just knows that you showed up, looking so pretty and wide-eyed and coy, and is now about to lose his mind.

“it’s alright,” he says, hoping you don’t hear the thick tension he hears in his own voice, like he’s some idiotic, hormonal young boy. “i think we only have a few more aisles left, anyway.”

he plucks the remaining items off the shelves before you both make your way to the self check-out, him scanning and you bagging because “eunbi says if my career as a photographer fails, i could be the best grocery bagger ever.”

“that’s just because she puts the bread on the bottom,” seonghwa mutters, a smile on your face as you nod your head - she squished one too many of your brioche loafs before you realized bagging just wasn’t for her.

your fingers graze ever so often, the coldness of his tips a stark contrast to your warmer ones.

a particularly big, bulk bag of vegetables proves to be a challenge for you, working through the packed bag with some difficulty. you let out an annoyed groan as you play a dangerous game of tetris, trying not to rip open the brown paper bag.

you finally get the box inside, a little bit prouder than you care to admit, when your precious brioche loaf is dropped right atop. you look up at seonghwa to see him already apologizing, your brow raised as you look at the older man in confusion.

did he think your hand was out? why would he just throw the food at you?

but it’s only when you feel a little more air than normal on your chest that you see what could’ve possibly caused the distraction, the white lace from your bra sticking out.

your cleavage in this dress was hidden for the most part, only becoming a little more obvious when you moved around or packed a shitload of groceries. it makes you bite back a smirk as you put two and two together, looking up to see his eyes still lingering over you.

two can play at this game mr. park.

“mr. park,” you begin, feigning a certain kind of innocence as you place your bread atop the other groceries and finally look up at him. “are you always so clumsy?”

it takes a few seconds for a smile to pull at his lips, the tick in his jaw not going unnoticed to you - so maybe this wasn’t all in your head. maybe he wants you too... possibly.

“you’re funny, y/n,” he mumbles, a smile pulling at your lips as he takes out his black card. “i guess i was distracted, too.”

you swallow the lump in your throat as you feel the slightest hint of arousal run through you, shaking it off and letting out a forced, girlish chuckle.

you pack the car a few minutes later without any lingering eyes or touches, seonghwa telling you about the meals they plan on cooking for christmas.

they usually don’t make their own food for holidays but decided to have a more traditional set up for you and eunbi’s arrival - he also hasn’t cooked a meal for his family in god knows how long.

“that’ll be great, thank you,” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt in as he backs out the spot. “i’m kind of a picky eater but i’ll eat anything you guys provide me.”

“and you have the whole brioche loaf,” seonghwa says, a giggle leaving your mouth as you nod your head.

“true. it’s really good.”

“i’ve never tried, perhaps you’d be willing to-”

his wife’s name popping up on his car dashboard acts as a way to bring you back to reality, brings a certain kind of silence over the both of you for a few seconds.

like he wasn’t just rubbing his body against yours and you weren’t just flirting with him in the form of smirking lips and snarky comments.

you watch a twinge of annoyance behind seonghwa’s eyes, gaze roaming over the screen as if he’s in contemplation before muttering “one second.”

“hello?”

“where are you?” her voice snaps in annoyance, “i told you we had that board meeting at one.”

“and it’s only noon,” his deep voice mumbles, not matching her level of irritation but sounding a whole lot different than a few seconds ago. “me and y/n are coming back now.”

“y/n?” she spats, like it’s a disgusting piece of food she wouldn’t dare put in her mouth. “what about eunbi?”

“she went off with jiwoon before i could get her in the car.”

“so it was only you two?” she asks, the snide judgment and underlying tone in her voice causing your stomach to churn. “did she ask you to buy a bunch of-”

“i’ll be home in twenty and then be on my way over,” he says, cutting her off and hanging up before she can even get another word you.

your stomach churns and a sick feeling comes over you, her utter dislike and disdain for you causing you to bite your lip.

because not only does she not like you to be with her daughter, she doesn’t want you with her husband (although, you suppose, you can’t really blame her for that one).

“i’m sorry about that,” seonghwa winces, the silence lingering between you two heavy. “you could’ve gotten anything you wanted, y/n. this is your christmas too. don’t feel bad about anything, okay?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, your gaze moving to his as he stops at the red light.

your eyes lingering over his and his doing the very same, hand twitching to reach out and move the piece of hair from your slightly flushed face.

and there was something about the way you were both looking at each other, eyes so focused and unwavering and honest, that had you thinking maybe all of this wasn’t in your heads.

but it didn’t mean either of you could act on it - they were just... feelings of lust and wonder and all things forbidden, not seriously believing that a relationship like this could unfold right under the nose of his wife, his daughter and your roommate.

unless the pull was so desperate.

so overwhelming and all-consuming and present between the both of you, little moments couldn’t help but happen.

strike one:

with none other than eunbi as a distraction, the girl promising she wasn’t gonna leave you alone anymore, you were able to take your mind off everything.

the tension-filled, heart pounding moments with mr. park that felt just as wrong as they did right.

you spent a few nights going out with her, jiwoon and all of their high school friends, a surprisingly nice group of young adults who you got along well with.

they were loud and crazy and did far too many shots but they also seemed to be genuinely kind. even the boy who was flirting with you all night, handsome and tall with pretty dark eyes, acted as a good distraction.

grinding up against him as the music pounded throughout the bar, alcohol coursing through your veins allowing you to forget about the older man who’s been living in your head for almost a week now.

“how have i never met you before, y/n?” the boy mumbled lowly in your ear, your head against his shoulder carelessly.

but it was right there in that moment, him saying your name, that the moment was over.

because it just didn’t sound like seonghwa, as delusional as that was.

it didn’t get your heart racing or lips quirking the same way it did when you heard the older man say it. the smile attached to his handsome, mature face and the deep, lowly spoken tone that always held a hint of teasing and sincerity.

“but danny really is so freakin’ nice!” eunbi squeals to you on christmas eve, the two of you in her immaculately white and modern kitchen prepping the chocolate chip cookie cough for tomorrow.

“and you two seemed to be getting along, i saw your ass all up on him.”

“eunbi, that wasn’t me. that was the vodka. i don’t know who that girl was.”

she throws her head back as a loud chuckle leaves her, telling you again that she warned you her snobby, rich little friends have been able to handle their liquor since middle school.

it’s how they cope, she had said, unloved kids with more money than god learning to deal with the world of limitless funds and minimal parental supervision.

“well he hasn’t stopped asking me about you, you know,” she hums, her eyebrows quirked suggestively as she mixes the bowl of ingredients lazily.

“and not just because of your newfound grinding skills, which by the way, are usually learned by the tenth grade.”

your eyes narrow at her comment, throwing a small ball of dough at her that she, impressively, catches in her mouth.

“he really is just, like, so taken by you, y/n. seriously. i told him that you’re graduating this year with a degree in photography and he nearly came in his pants. he loves the artsy girls.”

“you are so vile,” you snort out, shaking your head at the girl sitting criss-crossed on the counter. “and stop saying that. we both know i’m not graduating this year,” you mumble, her face falling pathetically.

“i told you we’re gonna find a way,” she whines lowly, looking at you with all kinds of sympathy and sadness in her eyes - she would offer to pay for you, if she didn’t think you would smack her upside the head.

“oh and what? is my new boyfriend danny gonna do that for me?”

“in exchange for more grinding and a photoshoot, i think. do you want me to try?”

she lets out another giggle despite the way you pinch her leg, peeking inside the bowl with a surprising amount of pride.

"this looks good,” you mumble, swiping your finger to collect some of the chocolate dough.

“hey!” she whines brattily, thrusting a spoon toward your hand just a second too late.  

“why are you whining in here like a child, eunbi?” seonghwa asks, walking through the entryway and the large, white island in the center. “what are you making? please don’t burn the house down.”

“haha dad, you’re so funny,” she mocks sarcastically, jumping down from the counter with her hands on her hips. “where are the baking sheets?”

a simple shrug from her father causes her to roll her eyes, grumbling about how she was really trying to avoid her bitch of a mother today. he holds back his smirk, about to reprimand her before she’s out the kitchen and shouting for her mother upstairs.

it’s only you and seonghwa in the kitchen now, a heavy silence in the air as you stand there dumbly - bowl beside you, cookie dough adorning the top of your finger.

“what are you girls making?” he finally asks, his body moving closer and closer causing you to swallow.

“i... uh, cookie dough. for tomorrow,” you say, lifting your finger and wiggling the tip full of batter. “chocolate chip.”

his eyes move to your finger before grazing over your mouth, his tongue peeking out ever so slightly as he reminds himself to act right.

he hasn’t been alone with you since that day at the food store, just seeing you in passing in the hallways or outside the house as you and eunbi went to and fro.

he hears your giggles at night and tired groans in the morning, quietly yelling at his daughter to wake up and get her ass out of bed.

and he knows it’s probably for the better, that you two don’t find yourselves alone with each other, but he can’t help but feel a rush of excitement right now.

you watch as he moves closer, with the same wide-eyed look you’ve been giving him since he first saw you in your apartment weeks ago.

“ahh, you’re making it from scratch? that’s ambitious.”

“yeah, we googled a recipe,” you tell him, finger still beside you in the air.

you don’t know what causes you to be so bold, maybe him attempting to carry out a normal conversation even though he’s looking at you with so much lust and desire, but you can’t stop once you start.

“how’s it taste?” he asks, his voice deep and slightly strained as he nods his head toward your finger.

you don’t even bat an eye as you slip the tip of your finger in your mouth slowly, swirling your tongue around as you take up all the dough on your skin.

it’s sweeter than you originally thought it’d be but it tastes good nonetheless, keeping your eyes on him as you reamin as innocent and unassuming as possible.

“it’s good,” you say, dropping your finger like you didn’t just make a show of licking and sucking it. “i like it better raw.”

you don’t even realize your words until you see the fleeting look on his face, tongue swiping across his lip and eyes hardening. they roam you so slowly and darkly, you can’t control the growing butterflies and swooping in your lower stomach.

“mm, me too,” he hums lowly, the hardening of his cock in his pants something he hasn’t felt in forever. it’s taking everything in him to control himself, from his eyes popping out of his head to letting out the deepest of growls in the back of his throat.

“do you want some?” you ask, cocking your head to the side questioningly.

he has to desperately hold on to his composure, not think about how easy it’d be to pin you against the cabinet right behind you. take just a few steps closer, have your back against the cold granite and let you feel just how much he wants some.

but he has to play it cool, push down these building desires and ignore your teasing because he’s almost fucking positive that’s what’s happening here.

“want some what?” he asks, his voice lowering just a tad.

he hasn’t played a game like this since college, watching as your eyes widen and brow quirks up.

but he sees that’s exactly what it is when you turn around and face the bowl of cookie dough to him, a smile just as sweet as the cookies on your face.

“cookie dough. before we put them in the oven and possibly burn them.”

the breathy chuckle he lets out leaves your stomach in shambles, his tongue peeking out and poking the inside of his cheek causing a swooping sensation to flood through you.

but before he can even think to say anything, before your eyes can look over his body and make you feel even more warm and bothered, eunbi floats back in and fiddles in the cabinets for the baking sheets.

“that woman is too much, i swear,” she grunts, whipping out the materials quickly before her head snaps to her father. “why are you still here?”

“i wanted some cookies. and to ensure y/n won’t allow you do burn down the kitchen.”

“it was one time, dad, and an accident. how many times do i have to defend myself in this house?”

you let out a giggle as you look from eunbi to seonghwa, your roommate turning her back to set up the practice baking session.

“let’s go bitch! i hope we didn’t fuck this up.”

seonghwa’s eyes roam over you for a few more moments, his tongue swiping across his lips before, finally, leaving the kitchen with his dick hard as a rock.

strike two:

christmas consisted of successful cookies per your and eunbi’s homemade batch, passive aggressive comments from mrs. park about your degree and a whole fuck ton of sexual energy between you and seonghwa.

you could almost always feel when his gaze was boring into you, when you got up to take more mashed potatoes or kept your attention on eunbi as she told her parents about what job she wants to start at next semester.  

it’s also when eunbi almost let it slip about your scholarships, had you not viciously pinched her arm and caused a pained cry to leave her mouth - if you ever thought jiwoon was gonna verbally assault you, it was certainly in that moment.

“why did you pinch me so hard?” she whined later that night, jiwoon passed out on the couch after five too many homemade cookies. “look at my bruise.”

a genuine frown crosses your lips as you look at her arm, rubbing her skin gently as you mumble your soft spoken apologies.

“i’m sorry but i just... i didn’t want your mom to know that,” you say back just as whiney and pathetic. “she already thinks i’m an incompetent idiot. knowing i have to wait a whole year because i’m broke is just too embarrassing.”

it’s an admission that, while eunbi already suspected that, still makes her feel bad - it nearly makes her wanna cry, that you don’t feel welcomed and loved in her home because her mom has to be a judgmental bitch.

“y/n...”

“bi, it’s fine, oh, my god do not cry right now,” you grumble, flicking her in the head lightly.

“i just feel bad,” she cries lowly, moving hrself closer to you and away from her boyfried. “it’s not fair, y/n. you worked so hard and now you have to wait. how could they do this to you?”

a small, touched smile crosses your face at eunbi as you shake your head, dabbing at her watery eyes.

if jiwoon wakes up, he’s literally gonna beat my ass,” you say, smiling when a wet giggle leaves eunbi; you don’t want this time to be sad or upsetting. “i thought he was gonna hit me at dinner.”

“okay if he’s hitting anything, it’s gonna be my-”

“no. no, no, no.”

the snort that leaves her mouth doesn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach, looking at you with a frown still adorning her face.

“i’m sorry if my mom’s making you feel uncomfortable. she does it to every single person ever and i don’t-”

“it’s fine, please stop apologizing for her,” you say, the sinking reminder in the back of your mind that seonghwa had been doing the very same thing - apologizing for that woman.

“i know she’s stressing you out, too. we’re in it together.”

“that’s true,” she sighs, letting out a long, dramatic groan before resting her head on your shoulder. “i’m so bloated, i don’t think i’m ever gonna be able to eat again.”

and it was funny that, days after the holiday, eunbi was still convinced that she was bloated from christmas dinner.

“babe, i don’t even think that’s possible,” jiwoon consoled her, you and him sitting in her room as she gets ready to go down to the pool.

because, naturally, like everyone in this godforsaken rich town, they get ready to go to the pool that’s inside of their homes; when eunbi told you to pack a bathing suit back at your apartment, you looked at her like she was insane.

until she clarified that her pool is heated and, conveniently, indoors.

“just through the backyard,” she had said - and she truly meant it.

just a few yards away from the main deck area, with floor to ceiling glass windows that showcase the extravagant landscaping and, of course, the outdoor pool and jacuzzi just a few feet away.

“eunbi, this is insane,” you say, marveling at the sight before you.

“don’t you wish you came sooner?” she asks with a wink, your eyes rolling as you place down your towel.

you had the option to bring two bathing suits - a skimpy black one you don’t remember being so scandalous or a red one you remember eunbi insisting you buy last summer.

and you just knew it was because danny was coming, currently showcasing his impressive eight pack that, truly, just doesn’t do it for you - maybe if he was twenty years older, apparently, and somebody’s father and husband.

you shake the thoughts out of your head, walking a few steps toward the pool before eunbi tackles you from behind. you both land with a loud splash, followed by the excited shouts and loud splashes of her other friends.

you’d be lying if you said you could remember the last time you had this much fun, splashing and giggling and acting so carefree despite the many challenges you’ll have to face soon.

but that’s not any of your concern right now, currently sitting atop danny’s shoulders and trying to knock down eunbi in a game of chicken.

“you little bitch! get your nails out of me!”

“coming from the girl who literally just tried to choke me two seconds ago!”

“like it’s your first time being choked!”

and you don’t know whether jiwoon was shocked by you saying that statement or the fact that his girlfriend exposes all of her sexual kinks to you but alas, it did the trick in sealing you a victory.

a smug smile on your face as danny jumps up and down in excitement, your body bouncing and nearly falling over him had you not gripped onto his shoulders.

it’s at that time eunbi pops up from the water, hair a soaking mess and mascara running down her face. she’s about to open her mouth, probably to yell at you, before a volleyball is thrown through the air and just misses her face.

instead, it hits danny square in the head. the boy letting out a yelp before you promptly fall backwards in the water, hearing eunbi’s shrill squeal and giggle on your way down.

you pop up and throw her a dirty look, danny rubbing at the back of his side before apologizing profusely.

“it’s okay,” you giggle out, about to say you shouldn’t have been up there for so long before eunbi’s squealing in the air.

“dad, what the hell kind of aim was that!”

you feel your body stiffen before you quickly shoot around, none another than mr. park standing there looking as handsome as ever.

he puts the young men around you to shame, good-looking, muscular college boys who anyone in their right mind would find attractive - but they just don’t beat him.

his striking eyes or tall, lean stature or the fact that he’s just so fucking-

“got worse with age, bi, what can i say?” he chuckles, extra white fluffy towels in his hold that he places on the chair. “sorry, danny.”

seonghwa’s known danny for a few years now, one of jiwoon’s friends who seems... alright. not a bad guy but also not a good guy - just kind of there; but it didn’t occur to the man just how much he was bothered by him until he saw you on his shoulders.

because he could’ve put you in danger, of course. put you in danger at his house where if things got bad, he’d be responsible; as for the ball, it merely slipped from his finger tips.

“no problem mr. park,” the kid smiles, the other friends gathering around and looking at him expectantly. “we’re gonna play a round of volleyball. you in?”

“no. no dads allowed,” eunbi whines, seonghwa rolling his eyes at his bratty adult daughter.

“why not? because i’m better than all of you, eunbi?”

“oh please,” she grumbles lowly, rolling her eyes and grabbing you to lead you toward the stairs. “you know what, we’re going in the hot tub anyway. since she decided to rock my shit in chicken. enjoy my father traitors,” eunbi grumbles to jiwoon and his friends.

“i did not,” you protest weakly, feeling two pairs of eyes on you as you make your way out of the pool with your friend.

the first thing that strikes seonghwa, apart from the major twitch in his pants, is how skimpy your bikini is.

red bottoms with thin straps holding it up, a matching red top showcasing cleavage and beauty marks on your chest and all the things that are proving to drive him fucking crazy upon seeing you every day.

it’s taking everything in him to control the growing ache in his shorts, your eyes looking at him so coyly and attentively that you’re ignoring the college boy gawking at you right in front of him.

there’s a certain sort of twisted pride in his chest, you giving him attention and seemingly reciprocating his interest, when there’s someone younger right there for you.

younger and unmarried and more suitable for you. someone you can actually be with where it wouldn’t be considered dirty or wrong or secretive; but maybe that’s why you’re both drawn to it in the first place.

that, and because you’re both really hot.

“he’s literally hot, y/n! why don’t you like him?” eunbi whines to you, the two of you sitting across from one another in the hot tub outside.

the december air is crisp but feels nice comapred to the steaming water you’re gratefully submerged in. anything to take you away from mr. park shirtless and wet in the pool right now.

“i do like him, bi,” you mutter, trying your best to convince her and now seem suspicious.

“okay, yeah, as a person but who cares about that!” she whines, flopping her hands dramatically in the water. “you don’t want him to rail you.”

“eunbi!” you squeak, splashing in her direction as a warm, embarrassed blush rises to your cheeks.

“i’m serious y/n. you’ve never been railed before and danny’s such a good option. he’s hot and he’s sweet and he’s so pathetically into you, it’s a little sick.”

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, shooting her a look that screams can we please not talk about this because you don’t know how much i actually wanna be railed by your father so let’s stop this discussion.

but she only rolls her eyes, moving herself closer to you so she can tug at your arm annoyingly.

“is he just not your type?” she questions, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion for a few moments before utter shock crosses her face.

“wait, what is your type? it’s... men, right? have i been hooking you up with the wrong gender this whole time?” she asks in disbelief, “could we have been hooking up this whole time?”

you press your lips together so you don’t burst out laughing, dryly replying “yes, eunbi, i’m into men.”

but the more you think about it, the more you think maybe you don’t have a type.

“and i’ve... never really thought about it before, to be honest. i just know i’m not into like... frat guys or whatever.”

because any party you’d been to, any douchey college guy wearing a backwards hat or cut off shirt, you had never been more disinterested. you couldn’t ever picture yourself falling for someone like that, romantically or sexually.

the one time you remember thinking someone was hot was when you took film and lit with your 31-year-old professor.

“so older guys?” eunbi concludes after hearing that, a smirk on her face as she raises her eyebrows playfully. “we gotta scope out some golf courses or retirement homes?”

“please,” you scoff, a giggle leaving her mouth as she throws her head back gleefully.

“okay, really though, i’ll tell danny you’re not interested and to stop trying so hard if you’re really not interested.”

but maybe danny as a distraction will be good.

will make you see that, perhaps, someone single and your own age and not your best friend’s father will be good thing for you to explore.

so you shrug lightheartedly, the smirk on your face causing eunbi to let out a low “oooh shit.”

you look over at her and your smile only widens when she knocks your shoulder, saying that you’re looking to be a play girl and drain a rich, lovesick man of some christmas presents.

“yeah, right! why drain a rich man when i can drain my best friend,” you tease, looking around her yard and still in astonishment that this is really her life. “i mean, two pools? is that really necessary?”

“three actually. there’s one behind the guest house on the other side. a small one. very humble.”

“oh, a small one, okay. great.”

she lets out another giggle, the two of you talking over plans for new years eve.

you might go up to jiwoon’s parents house in the mountains for the weekend, spend the time drinking with the small group of friends you’ve come to genuinely like over these past few weeks.

“it’s only two hours away so it won’t be that bad either,” she says, getting up to shake the hot water off her arms. “i’ll be right back, i have to pee.”

you nod your head, grateful she didn’t piss in the pool and allowing yourself to sit there, eyes closed, body relaxed, in the silence.

you can hear the faint screams of the boys from the indoor pool area and the swish of the hot tub filter, peeking open your eyes when, suddenly, you think you hear a boom of thunder in the distance.

you watch the sky darkening and clouds coming in, signaling a storm is coming in soon and quick. a sigh leaves your mouth, enjoying your last few moments of peace before finally standing in the hot tub.

the crisp winter air blows and sends goosebumps up your arms, a shiver running through your body as you attempt to splash some hot water on your upper body.

you don’t know how you know someone’s watching you but you do, some sort of strange intuition within you looking up to see none other than mr. park standing a few feet away from the hot tub.

his dark hair is wet and hanging in his face, swimming trunks soaked and his exposed chest still dripping chlorine water.

you press your lips together as your eyes roam his chest, a hint of abs on his lean stomach that causes a small, strangled groan to leave your mouth - you will never understand how this man is pushing 40.

but the same way you’re looking at him, he’s looking at you.

water covering your body, currently hunched over trying to warm the rest of your body; but it’s when you stand he really starts to gawk, your figure standing full and tall and giving him a perfect view of your hardening nipples from the cold crisp air.

you can see the lust in his eyes the same way you know he can and you’re about to do something to just make him crack. mistakingly untie your bottoms, catching them at the last second so he thinks he’s about to get a peak.

or undo the back of your top and pout at him, ask him to please tie it back for you because it’s way too hard to reach behind and do it yourself.

or maybe you’ll just drop to your knees right there, try to see if there’s any hint of a bulge in his swimming trunk bottoms and-

his body is gone just as fast as he arrived, confusion covering your face before you shake your head of your perverted thoughts - dropping to your knees when his daughter and wife are right here, what the fuck is wrong with you today?

you blame eunbi, all her talk about getting railed when you’ve been wanting to jump her father’s bones.

you carefully make your way out of the hot tub, not wanting to eat shit and scarp your leg on the concrete.

it feels like you’re about to freeze in the cold, another shiver wracking your body before you turn to stick your cold, goosebump-ridden arms back in the hot tub. it warms you for just a few seconds, a low, satisfied hum leaving your mouth before you hear footsteps coming up from behind you.

something in you tells you it’s him again.

whether it be the way your body heats up and feels prickly, the obvious feeling of eyes burning into your exposed back causing you to remain still and oblivious.

but you can longer remain oblivious a few seconds later, when a tall body is just a few inches away from completely pressing against you.

“you forgot a towel,” is all he says, placing it on the wet rim of the hot tub.

when he leans forward to place the white towel down, he’s careful and meticulous with his movements. brushing up against you every so slightly and carefully that you can feel his hard bulge on your ass for a few seconds too long.

at first you think you’re crazy, feeling what you were trying to envision in your head, but then you absolutely know it there’s.

you can feel the wetness from his bathing suit on your legs, his cock right there resting on the thin, red fabric of your bikini bottoms and if you were as weak as you felt inside, if he stayed there just a little bit longer, a moan would’ve absolutely left your mouth.

if you pushed back just a little to feel more of his cock on you, grind your ass his hardness just enough to hear him let out a low groan or maybe curse a little.

but he moves away, almost like he knew the perfect amount of time before that happened and almost like he did it by accident - but when you turn around and see the look in his eyes, you know it wasn’t.

the same way he can see a palpable desire and surprise and tension in your gaze, causing him to suppress a growing smirk. it makes you wanna tease him back in whatever way you can but you know that eunbi’s due back from the bathroom at any moment.

so you only cock your head to the side, lick over your lower lip carefully as you grasp the towel in your hands gently.

“thank you, mr. park,” you say, your voice as airy and sweet as you can possibly make it without sounding like an idiot.

“you’re welcome, y/n,” he says, taking a few steps back as his eyes lock on you. he stays there for a few moments until he hears the door to the pool house open.

you watch his lustful, dark expression change right then and there, a towel wrapping around his lower body and his face stretching into a happy, father-approved look.

“so you’re good with anything for dinner, y/n?” he asks, his voice loud and clear enough for his approaching daughter to hear. “i know you mentioned you were picky.”

“let’s get pizza!” eunbi screeches through the air, telling seonghwa that everyone’s staying over and they’ll need at least four boxes.

but you can’t even think about pizza right now, not when this moment right here is solidifying the crazy thought in your head that your best friend’s dad wants you just as much as you want him.

you called him out later that night around one a.m., after eunbi and jiwoon were the last to pass out to your scary movie marathon.

the others were sprawled out on the basement floor, an intricate array of blankets and pillows on the floor that you attempted to weave through, both, skillfully and quietly.

there was a dryness in your throat that could only be settled by a cold glass of water, making your way through the house quietly and praying you don’t run into mrs. park.

she’s been just as passive aggressive as she usually is in front of people so you could never imagine being alone with her. wondering what the hell she’d say to you without seonghwa and eunbi as buffers.

you were relieved when the lights were off in the kitchen, padding your way to the fridge to take out a bottle of water. you twist and turn the cap off to gulp down the cold liquid in the refrigerator light, a quiet gasp leaving you as your thirst is quenched.

you briefly consider going up to eunbi’s room to sleep tonight, not sure how you feel about being squished in with eunbi and jiwoon cuddling on the couch, when the light suddenly flicks off.

it causes you to freeze and halt all thoughts, fear running through you for all three seconds before you see seonghwa’s tall, familiar figure pass you. you watch him carefully in the dim light of the fridge, his shirtless chest yet again right in front of your face.

leaned back against the counter across from you, giving you a perfect view of his toned chest and gray sweatpants.

“midnight snack?” he asks, the smirk on his face almost causing you to roll your eyes.

instead, your lips quirk into a small smile. raising your water bottle by your head and shaking it, the water swishing in your pounding ears.

“just water,” you respond quietly, matching his low tone. “i hope that’s okay.”

“that you took water? of course, y/n,” he says, amusement in his gaze as he looks you over.

you’re freshly showered and in a pair of pajamas, matching pink sets that eunbi got you for christmas one year - he remembers because he was with her when she bought it.

a soft smile crosses your face, your back getting cold from the open fridge but not daring to move a muscle. not with him looking at you the way he is and with his body just a few feet away from you.

a silence lingers in the kitchen, you not sure why he’s looking at you and him waiting to see if you say something, before he bites the inside of his cheek.

“i wanted to say sorry about before.”

your eyebrow quirks up, interest so clearly peaked as you cock your head to the side.

“what do you mean?”

a smirk crosses his face as he watches you play dumb, head cocked and eyes wide and everything about you with such mock innocence, he thinks that’s what’s driving him the most crazy.

that you do this shit and say certain things with almost complete unawareness and innocence, if it weren’t for the hidden look of desire and teasing in your eyes.

“you know,” is all he says, his voice dipping and eyes twinging darker, it makes your lower stomach swoop.

a part of is positive, even if you ask, he’s not gonna say it aloud.

he’s not gonna say or acknowledge any of this aloud and make you guys play this game until you leave in a few weeks.

and then when you leave, unsure about your next prospects of college or education or even living arrangements, who knows if you’re ever gonna see him again.

so you only hum lowly, closing the fridge behind you and leaving you both in darkness. the only source of light is from the moon outside, lighting up half the kitchen from the large bay window.

it leaves you both incredibly exposed, anyone from the outside able to see the two seemingly innocent bodies standing toe to toe with each other; but they don’t see the lustful looks and eyes full of desire, both of you so entrapped by the other, it’s obvious with the tension in the air.

“oh, well, then... it’s okay, mr. park,” you say with a smile, taking a step back as your eyes roam his chest one last time. “i didn’t mind.”

you’re about to say goodnight when you see his arm reach out, shocked but oh, so ready ready to give into your desire and feel your body crash against his or your lips connect finally.

moan into his mouth and feel more of his hardness against you - but he only takes the water from your hand, presses his mouth against the plastic rim and swigs down a big gulp.

you watch with wide eyes as his adam’s apple bobs in the moonlight, head tipped back and body perched calmly on the counter as he takes a swig of your water bottle, spit exchanged and his mouth right where yours was.

he pulls back with an unreadable expression, licking the excess water from his lips before simply closing the cap, holding out the bottle and smiling at you with the most wise-ass smirk you’ve ever seen, you’re not sure how you’re ever gonna one up this man.

"sweet dreams, y/n.”

strike 3:

your new years weekend get away turned into an extended stay that consisted of sleeping on a lumpy air mattress, five extra guests and so much alcohol, you’re positive you’re still hungover three days later.

“it wasn’t that... we only did a... i mean it wasn’t like we were....” eunbi says, the two of you laying on her bed nursing headaches and body aches to the severest degree.

“okay, it was pretty bad. we were kind of rowdy and out of control.”

“you don’t say?” you grumble, never one to black out and get that shit faced and then doing it nearly every night - maybe to deal with danny’s pathetic soft looks or whispered sweet nothings to you.

“nothing is working either. not advil or water or greasy food. we might’ve fucked ourselves for life, bi.”

but if there’s one thing that always helped for eunbi, it was a nice, long bath. steaming hot water that burned her skin and the prettiest bath bombs to make the entire bathroom smell of strawberries and cream.

so even though you didn’t want to, nothing more comfortable than eunbi’s king size bed and warm, fluffy comforter, you allowed the girl to drag you to the bathroom down the hall to set up ‘your last resort, hangover paradise.’

it consisted of every type of bath bomb and lotion and bubble bath the luxurious could dream of, sending her out immediately when you saw her sneaking in with a glass of champagne.

“are you crazy?” you ask, dipping your toe in the water to test the temperature. “that’s what started this disaster.”

“fine, more for me!” she squeals happily, turning down the lights and pressing the bluetooth button for your phone’s music. “enjoy. i’ll see you in an hour, completely hangover free.”

“we’ll see about that,” you grumble, your words falling on deaf ears as she locks and closes the door to makes her way back to her ensuite.

and as much as you wanna give eunbi shit for her pompous tactics and techniques for everything in life, you have to say that this is certainly helping.

soaking in the steaming hot water, with cucumbers on your eyes and quiet music playing through the ceiling speakers. the jets in the tub also added another layer of relaxation to it, healing your sore muscles from days of waking up on a hard, wooden floor.

the mirrors were steamed and the room was boiling by the time you got out, stepping on the fuzzy bath mat and drying yourself off with a towel. you had tried not to get your hair wet but it proved useless, your relaxed body sinking further and further down until nearly your whole head was wet.

you stretch your arms above your head as you let out a content groan, feeling the best you’ve felt in three days and ready to take a nap.

but it’s at that moment, looking around the large steaming bathroom, that you realized you didn’t bring a change of clothes in. meaning you’ll know have to walk done the hall and into eunbi’s room in just a towel.

it’s fairly late, almost 11:30, so you’re hoping that her parents are in their rooms and fast asleep by now.

you peak your head out, feeling like a spy in a cheesy action movie as you look up and down the hall. you turn off the light once the coast is clear, walking quietly but quickly down to eunbi’s room - or wing, as it could be considered

you’re almost out of the gate, just a few more steps until you round the corner down eunbi’s hallway, when seonghwa’s tall figure is coming right up the stairs.

his head is down as he looks at his phone, still in his dress shirt and tie from his long day at work. you noticed that after the holidays, he’s been around the house less - working from home when he can but also needing to go into the office more often than not.

he’s at the top of the stairs when he finally notices your figure watching him, wrapped in a towel with a flush on your cheeks and your wet hair dripping on the floor.

it seems to be the thing to break him right now, not able to tear his eyes away or think of any fun, flirty comments to keep you from suppressing the need to roll your eyes.

because his days have been long and stressful and the only thing he needs right now is to just get off - and then there you are like something his prayers have answered, standing there quiet and awestruck at the sight of his loose tie and messy black hair he’s been running his hands through all day.

“h-hi, mr. park,” your quiet voice says, sweet and soft-spoken and utterly apologetic, like you’re embarrassed to be caught in just your towel - and he supposes that would make sense, to feel embarrassed about getting caught like this your friend’s father.

but he can’t find it in himself to care right now, two seconds away from dragging you down to his office so he can finally fuck you over his desk - but he knows that would be the worst decision in the world, for countless reasons.

“hi, y/n,” he grumbles back just as low, leant against the railing with a voice that sounds defeated and gruff.

“are you okay?” you ask, something about his voice and demeanor off.

he has to hold back a strangled laugh, his lips quirking up before he bites down on his lip.

“i’m... i’m fine, thanks. work’s just busy,” he says, a certain part of his chest warming at the fact you even asked - he knows his wife won’t when he walks in their bedroom in a few minutes.

“oh, okay,” you respond, twirling with the end of your towel nervously. “well... i’m sorry to hear that.”

he allows himself to let out a chuckle this time, shaking his head as he looks over your bare, wet face; you’re too pretty for your own good, he’s not even sure you realize just how pretty you are.

just how much he really wants you and just how much he’s coming to like seeing you in his house everyday.

“it’s alright, that’s why you gotta do something you love, right?” he quips, his long fingers up to recreate a camera, pressing down as if to snap a photo.

it cause you to let out a soft, genuine giggle, nodding your head and easing the slight embarrassment of him catching you in a towel.

“right,” you say with a smile, shy smiles and gazes shared until you finally look away in fear of your cheeks warming again.

but it doesn’t stop him from admiring the view of you, your bare face and exposed chest before the towel covers up all the parts he wants to so desperately explore.

he pictures dropping your towel and hearing it fall to the floor with a plop, take in the sight of your perky boobs and hard nipples in the air.

drop his mouth just a little bit to your neck, pressing small kisses against your skin as his fingers knead your nipples, all the quiet moans and breaths to make sure you two don’t get caught shooting right to his cock.

he probably wouldn’t be able to control himself, sliding a finger into you right then and there in the middle of the hallway, pressing your back against the wall to have you trapped against his larger body.

he’d pump his finger in and out of you slowly and tauntingly, hearing how wet you are and feeling how tight you are. it’d be similiar to how this past month has just been both of you taunting and teasing and beating around the bush, occasionally letting his fingers curl to his your g-spot or graze your sensitive clit.

and then he’d drop to his knees to taste you. make sure he sucks and licks and takes your clit in his warm mouth that you’re-

“i should get back to eunbi,” you finally say, breaking the silence and ripping him from his dirty, hidden fantasies. you can’t take the lust and desire in his eyes that you see when he looks at you, an painful ache building between your legs more and more.

“goodnight, mr. park.”

you nearly run into eunbi’s room and slam the door had you not seen her sleeping form, passed out right there in the middle of her bed wearing a baby pink robe.

you look beside her to see an extra one laid out, a silky lilac one that causes a small smile to cross your face.

you’ve never felt material like this on your skin, basking in the feeling of the smooth, silky material as you clean up her room quietly - both to tidy up and distract you from the ache in your legs and last encounter with her father.

for eunbi growing up with housekeepers and nannies her whole life, it always surprised you how clean and tidy your roommate was; the sink was never full of dishes and you alternated vacuuming the living room carpet.

but it’s obvious all of that is a facade because since the moment she got home, her messy ways have shown through - you find it endearing, though, and it’s all very eunbi: a homey, lived in mess of luxurious items and articles of clothing worth more than your childhood home.

the girl in question had moved to the right side in her sleep as you cleaned, a quiet chuckle leaving your mouth. you look to see both your water bottles are empty, deciding on the brave decision to go downstairs to grab two new ones.

the last time you’d done that, you thought for sure mr. park was gonna jump your bones - and you know you were gonna let him.

your mind is littered with memories of that night as you make your way through the dark house of twists and turns, carefully going down the stairs as you walk toward the kitchen.

there’s a room with beautiful double doors on your left, a room you’ve walked past hundreds of times throughout your stay here. eunbi told you it was her dad’s first floor office, where he usually worked and had his meetings from home.

the first thing you notice from down the hall is that the door is slightly cracked open, a peak in from the dimly lit kitchen showcasing some fancy decor of a globe.

as you make your way closer and closer, your ears are met with a quiet, strangled groan that causes you to stop in your tracks; your mind begins to race with a million different scenarios of what you could be walking past right now.

your first thought is that you’re about to see mr. and mrs. park in a very compromising position over his desk - and, as sick as it sounds, as delusional and crazy and absurd as it sounds, that prospect makes your stomach sink and twist painfully.

but that would be normal, you suppose; they’re a fucking married couple after all and seonghwa had seemed stressed from work. obviously he was gonna ask his wife to help calm him down and relax him.

get all of his stress out in the form of-

you shake your head before you can even think about it, forcing your feet to move past the office doors.

and it’s like you can’t even stop yourself from peeking in, confirming to see if your thoughts are correct and you’re about to be gutted, when you take in the sight before you.

seonghwa still in his loose tie and white dress shirt, pants around his ankles and his head thrown back in his office chair as his own hand jerks his cock off.

everything about it is dirty and wrong and you know you shouldn’t be looking in but you can’t stop.

you can’t stop watching the way his hand works around his cock expertly, long and thick and so fucking nice it nearly makes you drool. the thought of you on your knees before him, taking him in your mouth and licking and sucking around the tip, making you bite back a moan.

you can’t stop your eyes from looking at his face, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut with his neck on display - perfect for you to bite and give hickies, if you were on top straddling him.

you can’t stop the painful ache and wetness seeping in your thong as you watch him get off, his groans and grunts and heavy breaths making you wanna whine out in arousal.

and it’s that suppression right there, getting so worked up and horny over the sight of your peeping tina activities, that cause you to pull yourself away.

because as much as you don’t want to and as much as you wanna help him, you can’t.

you can only scramble into the kitchen and get water as fast and quiet as humanly possible, scurrying past the office and up the stairs with the stealthiness of a lion.

you can only lay in bed with the thoughts of your roommate’s father and the noises he makes, the sight of his cock and the hand movements replaying over and over in your mind.

and you realize that night, with only a few more days until you both have to leave for the spring semester, you can only hope to never see mr. park again.

let this flirtation and fascination and utterly screwed up infatuation with your roommate’s dad be nothing but a dirty memory you’ll keep to yourself for the rest of your life.

because if it’s not, if you have to see him again and have him in your daily life again, you won’t be able to hold yourself back.

your lust will turn deeper and you’ll find yourself in a much bigger issue than damp underwear and secret, forbidden moments with mr. park seonghwa.

you should’ve known with only two days left of your stay that eunbi was gonna let the news slip.

you were at least grateful for the fact that mrs. park had a charity ball with her clan of “botox getting, bitchy sounding gold diggers who need to desperately get laid,” successfully riding her of your last friday night dinner.

“so you girls don’t want a new apartment then?” seonghwa asked, glass of wine in his hand as he looks at the two of you questioningly. “that building’s looking for a new owner, eunbi, i think it’d be perfect for you both.”

“dad don’t be ridiculous, we can’t own the building!” eunbi says, swatting her dad playfully as she shovels a piece of food in her mouth. she’s casual and comfortable without her mom’s prying eyes and biting tone, her foot resting on the white fabric beneath her.

“and besides, i might be alone in there soon. we still don’t know if y/n is gonna be starting her-”

you kick the girl under the table roughly, her face pulling into a wince as a cry leaves her mouth.

“ow, y/n! what the he-”

but it’s upon seeing your white face and annoyed expression that she realizes what she said, her mouth falling open and silent as she looks at you apologetically.

“oh shit...”

you can only shoot her a pained, sarcastic smile, daringly looking at seonghwa who’s watching the two of you with a curious expression.

“what do you mean?”

silence hangs in the air, you and eunbi sharing side eyes and dejected looks with her dad before he cocks an eyebrow at the both of you.

“girls... what do you mean?” he asks, his voice deeper and more serious, taking on a dad-like tone eunbi isn’t used to hearing from her relaxed, playful father.

and that’s when, before eunbi can open her big mouth any further, you calmly and regretfully explain the situation with your scholarship.

how you got an e-mail a few months ago about alternate funding for the art department and that you were one of the many students who, while keeping up your end of requirements, could not be awarded money.

“it’s awful that they can do that,” seonghwa says, his eyes full of the same sympathy and outrage eunbi’s held - except he knows that this happens all the time. that it’s unfair and sick and a big ploy in the education system that needs incredible reform.

especially when it hurts students like you.

“yeah but it is what it is,” you say, trying your hardest to steer the conversation to literally anything but this (in fear that you’ll scream or start crying or have yet another anxiety attack).

“i can just finish up in the fall, it’s no big deal,” you lie through our teeth, a sad smile on your face as you look at eunbi. “i’m just sorry it messes up our combined graduation party.”

a frown crosses eunbi’s face as she smacks you in the arm, pulling you closer to her just so she could cuddle herself into your arm.

“i will wait for you,” she proclaims dramatically, a pout on her lips and starry-eyed look in her gaze. “i will wait as long as i have to. if they delay it any further, father, you will simply have to sue the school.”

“father, huh?” seonghwa hums lowly, his lips quirking into a smirk.

father is the term eunbi uses when she wants to use him and his money, whether it be blackmailing unfair teachers or shitty students or calling for him when her and her mom are fighting.

“yes, father,” she says, looking to you with a sweet, apologetic smile on her face.

“i’m serious, y/n. we got your back,” she quips with a wink, a pained smile on your face that she knows means you can’t wait to let her have it when you two are alone.

“you had one job, eunbi, and you were doing so good,” you say in her room later that night, pacing back and forth as she sits on her bed like a scolded child. “literally two nights left and you let it slip out!”

“i’m sorry, okay!” she whines for the ninth time, a pout on her face as she plays with fingers; you wanna roll your eyes seeing it, knowing for a fact that’s something she does when she’s in trouble with jiwoon.

“i didn’t mean to, it just slipped out!” she begins to defend, “and it was only my dad! he wouldn’t dare say a bad word about you, y/n, he loves you.”

you ignore the twinge in your chest when you hear her say those words, feeling a tad guilty at the bodily reaction you have about her own father. how much you’re hiding from her and that you have these suppressed feelings and secret moments in the first place.

“loves me or not, bad word or not, it’s still embarrassing, eunbi,” you say, a frown on your lips as you start to hear the situation aloud. 

“i still can’t pay for my tuition and have to wait almost a whole year to take a degree in fucking photography. like how embarrassing is that, all of this just for me never find a job and live in a box.”

you’ve only seen a flash of anger on eunbi’s face a few times in your life, the incident with the dorm girls and her dad and when a sorority girl tried to kiss jiwoon at the bar.

and you see it right now, her small but mighty frame jumping off the bed and lunging toward you quickly.

“are you kidding me!” she squeals, smacking you in the arm and pushing you down on the bed.

“what the hell do you mean a degree in fucking photography? or living in a box? you’re gonna be the best photographer in the world and shoot every event in my life and charge me quadruple the amount!”

a smile pulls at your lips as you hear her go on and on, hype you up and build up your confidence and tell you to never talk that way about yourself again. how there’s nothing embarrassing about not being able to afford thousands of dollars when you were alerted about the expense on such short notice.

“okay, okay, i know that,” you eventually give in, letting out a sigh as you flop down on her bed. “it’s just.... stressful. i can’t move back home but i also need to get like, a real job. a job that’s gonna pay well so i can save up as much as possible.”

“and we’ll find you that when we get back,” she says, assuring with a confident look in her eye and her hands in yours. “i can promise you, with or without my father’s connections, we’re getting you a job.”

her words prove to reassure you for the remainder of the night, when, after she kisses your ass a little more, asks if she can go to jiwoon’s for a little.

you spent that time in her room looking at nearby job offerings and building up your resume and cover letters, working well into the night hours with a text from jiwoon that she fell asleep and will be back in the morning.

you stretch your arms above your head with a quiet groan, noting it’s almost one o’clock and you’re fucking parched yet again.

it’s no surprise to you when the lights in the kitchen are on, dimly light and no noise around as you pad your way to the fridge.

you almost expect the footsteps that come in a few moments later, when you take a sip from your water and close the fridge without hesitation.

“have you told your parents about tuition?”

you’re confused by the statement that leaves seonghwa’s mouth, brows pulled together and a sinking feeling in your stomach at this conversation again - because as if tuition wasn’t enough, he just had to bring up your parents.

but you don’t wanna beat around the bush any longer; you two seem to do that enough.

“me and my parents don’t talk,” you say, straight forward and quiet as you look right at him.

it’s the first time he sees you look a little broken and defeated, a certain kind of sadness shining behind your eyes that makes him wanna pull him into you. it feels like a protective instinct he’s used to, caring for the people in his life and not wanting to see them struggle.

“they wouldn’t help me anyway.”

this protective instinct feels a little different in this moment, something else tugging in his chest that he hasn’t felt in a very long time - not until he started seeing you more.

“but it’d be a shame if you didn’t finish, y/n. you got so far and you’ve done so well for yourself.”

you smile a little at the praise, tongue rolling over your lips in a way he certainly doesn’t miss - but this moment isn’t about that. it’s not something he cares even a little bit about right now.

“thank you, mr. park, but i am gonna finish,” you say with finality, the confident and sure tone making a strange sort of pride swell inside of him.

“i just have to save up money and i’ll start in the fall. it’s really not that big of a deal,” you tell him with a smile, taking a few steps back so you don’t feel too crowded by him.

“eunbi’s gonna help me look for jobs when i get back,” you say, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as you look at him. “a big girl job. something real and hard, that’s gonna make me super stressed and agitated.”

so much so that i have to get off at the thought of you.

a deep chuckle bubbles out of him that you match with ease, the two of you sharing small smiles and quiet giggles in the middle of this spotless, white kitchen.

“can’t do what you love quite yet, i guess,” seonghwa says, his eyes roaming your face so slowly and carefully, it makes you a tad bit nervous.

you hadn’t realized how natural and easy this conversation was between you two, like you were talking to someone you’d known your whole life opposed to someone you’ve barely known for four years.

his hand itches to reach up and touch your hair, tuck the soft, silky looking strand behind your ear and watch your cheeks heat up when your skin touches; but instead, he smiles down at you, inching closer until he’s just looming over you and staring down at you with a soft, undetectable look in his eye.

“but it’ll be worth it in the end, i think. it’s just gonna... take some time.”

you lick over our lips, throat and mouth suddenly so incredibly dry, as you nod your head.

“yeah, i think so, too,” you say, your lips smushing together nervously before you open your mouth to speak again - this could be one of the last times you’re alone with him.

“thank you for letting me stay with you guys, mr. park. it’s been... really nice spending time with people for the holidays.”

he feels his heart twinge in his chest again, his eyes falling down to your lips and swearing he’s never wanted to kiss someone so bad in his life.  

“of course, y/n, it’s been a pleasure,” he says, a smile quirking at his lips with a hint of something you just can’t quite make out. “maybe we’ll see each other again soon.”

it was five days before classes started that you got the confirmation e-mail - a message confirming your tuition for the spring semester was paid in full and your current balance was $0.

you had to look over the message for three whole hours making sure you had read the e-mail correctly, even going as far to call the bursar office to make sure they had the correct address.

but they had confirmed with surety that your balance was paid off, urging you to quickly sign up for the classes you need before the day was over.

“okay, you will never believe what interview i was able to score for you,” eunbi says the moment she walks in the apartment, shopping bags up her arm and gucci sunglasses perched atop her head.

“i’ll admit, the vibe was a little off with the coworkers but i think it’d be a great opportunity to-” her eyes catch your laptop screen on the school website, a list of classes and times on your screen that causes her eyes to widen.

“oh?” she squeals, running over and throwing herself down on the couch beside you. “what the heck are you doing? are you... did you...?”

the lie came way too quick and easy to you, excitedly blabbering out that there was a change in the system and your scholarship was approved - “i think they felt bad that i was a graduating senior,” you said, eunbi’s face pulled into the happiest smile you’ve ever seen.

she clapped and danced and bounced around in excitement, proclaiming you guys just had to go out and get drinks to celebrate the fact that your surprise party was back on.

but you could only sit there with your thoughts and suspicions and this overwhelming feeling deep within your stomach that, while eunbi definitely doesn’t know, her father might’ve just paid your college tuition in full.

(part 2)

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[mercy-burning]

Affection

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer and Y/N decidedly hate each other. But when a near-death experience puts one of them in a coma, their mutual hatred might have to take a backseat— Or will it? Category: Angst / Happy Ending! + Humor and a lil bit of Fluff Content: Strong language, Reader is in a coma, mentions of injury, kissing Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This one’s for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) September Writing Challenge, Enemies To Lovers! I have another one coming up as well, but this idea wouldn’t get out of my head ever since I watched The Abyss with my dad and I had to get it out 😅 I hope you like it!!

———

I swear to fucking God, if this motherfucker really thinks he—

That was the last thing Y/N thought before she was knocked out cold.

With her line of work, it was natural to assume that she was thinking about the unsub, but unfortunately the criminal she and her team were tracking down was the farthest thing on her mind. Spencer would have chastised her for it— letting something else cloud her thoughts while she was in a dark alley, alone, and with a serial killer on the loose.

"You should be smarter than that!" she could hear him say in that high pitch he always carried when he was upset— especially with her. "If you don't get yourself killed one of these days, then it'll be the rest of us!"

Thinking about it made her blood boil.

"It's your fault," she wanted to tell him. "I had to blow off some steam because you were pissing me off!"

The only thing was... She couldn't tell him.

Well... She could.

He just couldn't hear her, because no one could.

It was like some stupid, cliché movie, where you found yourself standing over your dying body and having to choose whether to live or not. It seemed like the obvious choice, to fucking live, but... Y/N found herself wandering around her hospital room, yelling into the void and attempting to jump back into her own body.

Nothing was working.

And when Spencer showed up, his face red and his hair and clothes all messed up, she wanted to scream at him.

"Hey!"

Nothing. He was practically lifeless as he drifted to the chair next to her bed and sat down. It was nearly impossible to read from his expression and body language how he was feeling, and that alone was enough to make her angry again. (Not that the anger had really gone away since waking up next to her comatose body, of course.)

"Hey! Dumbass!"

Still nothing.

As Spencer just blankly stared down at Y/N's bed, she decided she'd had enough.

"SPENCER FUCKING REID, IF YOU DON'T HELP ME RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL HAUNT YOUR ASS UNTIL THE END OF ETERNITY, AND I'M GONNA LAY FAT, STINKIN' GHOST SHITS IN YOUR SHOES, DO YOU HEAR ME? AND—"

"I hate you."

It was a bold enough statement to stop Y/N in her tracks, no matter how quietly he'd mumbled it. She knew for sure that he didn't like her, after years of constant bickering and dirty glares and whatever else, but... The word 'hate' was like a knife that sliced through her joking rage and stopped the whole world around her.

If she wasn't already out of her own body, she just knew she would have felt her soul leave.

Spencer didn't hate anyone. Not that she was aware of, anyway. He found nearly everyone delightful, and vice versa... But for some reason, he hated Y/N.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, well... Feeling's mutual, I guess..."

"You're stupid, and reckless, and you don't think. And you're a goddamn nightmare to work with... You know what— You're a stone-cold bitch."

His words made her physically step backwards, and it felt like if she were a cartoon, there might have been steam coming out of her ears.

"Yeah, well jokes on you, you make it easy," she seethed. "Fuck you!"

"How... How dare you..." he continued, anger reddening his face.

Y/N watched as he balled his fists and leaned in a little closer to her body, his voice tight and strained. "How dare you walk into my life and boss me around and make it impossible to breathe... From the moment I met you, you've brought out this... this fire in me that I can't put out no matter how hard I try, and it's insufferable—You're insufferable, and I hate you, how dare—"

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a shortness of breath. Spencer breathed in, loud and choked, and the next breath he let out was nothing short of a sob. His eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down them and his hands clutched the bedsheets with a vigor and rage that Y/N had never seen from him, even in all the years she'd spent visibly getting on his last nerves.

"N—No," she choked out, feeling her throat tighten. "Don't... Don't turn into a sappy mess on me now, do you hear me, Reid? You hate me, don't... Don't..."

"I don't hate you," he whispered, wiping his eyes and reaching out to grab her lifeless hand. "I hate that you make me feel this way, but... I could never hate you..."

She wanted nothing more than to be able to squeeze his hand back, to tell him, not even necessarily with words but with a simple gesture, that she was right there and wasn't going to go anywhere.

She just... had to figure out how to make that true.

Still, Spencer kept going, a small laugh bubbling up through tears and phlegm. "But I will hate you if you die, because I just know you're gonna come back and haunt me for eternity... Probably... shit in my shoes or something."

Y/N barked a laugh that was true and pure... Happy, even.

The genius may have acted like he hated her, but it turns out he knew her pretty well, perhaps even fondly in one way or another.

To think— All those years she spent seeing him sneer at her, feeling his glare burn into her soul, the amount of times she caught him making faces or inappropriate gestures behind her back, all of it... And the whole time, he was probably doing it with a little flicker of fondness deep within the confines of his heart, which he swore to fill with nothing but hatred for her.

The thought made the little flicker in her own heart burn brighter.

As she wandered closer to her bed, beside Spencer and in front of her own body, she reached her hand out to see if she could touch his face, to give him something...

Even though she had no luck, something shifted when he spoke.

"Just... Come back to me, please? I know I'm not good at apologizing, but if it means I get you back... I swear that I will make up every horrible thing I've ever done or said to you. Just... Please don't leave me."

He laid his head down in his hands and tried not to cry again, every said horrible thing replaying on a loop in his brain like some kind of taunt. He wished more than anything for a chance to make it up to Y/N, and now he might not ever be able to.

"You think I'd leave this mortal earth without getting the chance to kick your ass?"

Everything was so fuzzy and light and brimming with these high emotions that Y/N almost didn't realize she was saying these words and Spencer was hearing them. She almost didn't feel the warmth of her bloodstream beneath layers of skin, the beat of her heart slowly coming back to life at the sounds and smells of the hospital room.

She almost didn't realize that Spencer was grabbing her now, his warm hands covering her cold ones and bringing them back to life as well.

"Screw you," he breathed with absolutely no malice to be detected in his voice.

They shared a smile so bright, no one would have been able to guess that they never got along.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Not only was she stuck at home doing nothing while on suspension (Yes, it turns out that storming off into an alley and not paying attention while on the job, just because a co-worker pissed you off, can get you suspended by Chief Strauss), but Y/N was also being visited by a daily rotation of her co-workers and friends and family, and her house was nearly covered in flower bouquets and baked goods.

It was a nightmare.

The sentiment was nice, sure, but if she had to move one more vase, she was going to start throwing them.

God, maybe Spencer was right, I am a stone-cold bitch...

Thinking of him also put a little damper on her mood.

He hadn't been to visit her once... And she figured that after their nice little moment at the hospital, he'd at least stop by with flowers or an "I'm glad you're not dead!" call, but there was nothing on his end. Not even a text message or a letter.

But for all she knew, their small moment of kindness could have been a figment of her concussed imagination.

Please, she thought, if I brought it up to him he'd probably just laugh in my face.

Rather than a laugh, Y/N heard the bright sound of her doorbell, which normally would have meant a fun unexpected visit or a date she was getting ready for, but by now it only meant another vase of flowers or a pie from a neighbor she still didn't remember the last name to.

Either way, she answered the door with as polite a smile as she could muster, and instead of finding a vaguely familiar neighbor or acquaintance, she found Spencer.

Though, to be fair, he was holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Well, this is a surprise," Y/N drawled, crossing her arms. "I don't even think you've ever been to my house."

She was surprised to see him nervous around her, rather than irritated. And she would have found it endearing had they not been practically mortal enemies from the moment they met... She was suspicious.

"O—Oh, yeah... I know, I just thought... I wanted to come see how you were doing... These are for you."

He held out the flowers, which were truthfully the pretties set she'd received, and it irked her. Because of course he of all people would be the one to tell which kinds of flowers she'd prefer.

"Thanks," she said, taking them from him and allowing him the space to come inside. "Watch out, it's a maze in here..."

While she looked for somewhere to put the flowers on display, she could feel Spencer looking around her space, probably profiling what he could behind a sea of flowers.

"Hm."

Y/N sighed. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just... I'm surprised this many people actually like you."

Despite the nature of his observation, she found it comforting. That level of playful contempt was what she was used to, and it brought a sparkle to her eye as she turned to face him. "Ha... I'm not a complete bitch, you know."

"Sure."

Between the growing grin on his face and the smirk forming on her own, Spencer and Y/N found themselves falling back into a familiar rhythm. And yet, something about it was still... different.

So much so that Y/N felt honest-to-God butterflies in her stomach when he approached, hands retreating from his pockets and head tilting off to the side. His expression held that look he got when he was trying to figure someone out, usually an unsub. She hated to admit it to herself, but a little part of her always found that side of him extremely attractive.

And now that it was right in front of her?

She didn't know what to make of it.

"What?" she snapped, looking for an excuse to hide any and all attraction she was feeling.

Spencer stepped back a little, breaking away from whatever trance he'd just been in. "God, why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"You push away every single show of affection! Any time I'm trying to be nice, you just act like it's some big inconvenience to you!"

Y/N laughed. "Ha! That's what that was? Just now? When you insulted me, and then started stalking towards me with that look you get when you're interrogating an unsub? That's what you call affection?"

"That's not... That's not what that was!"

"Oh really? Then what was it?"

"It was part of the routine! Banter! Y—You know, that's our thing! We insult each other, and we act like we hate each other but we... We don't, really..."

The longer he went on, the faster her heart raced. This was the moment in the movie where he inevitably blurted out that he loved her, and in turn she would either kiss him or slap him, or slap him and then kiss him...

But Y/N was still feeling rather playful despite the swarm of butterflies in her stomach begging for some relief.

"Oh?" she prompted, taking a slow step closer to him. "We don't?"

Spencer seemed to get red immediately, and he avoided her eyes. "U—Uh... Well I... I thought... Maybe I read it all wrong, a—and I'm sorry if I did..."

She'd been getting closer meanwhile, and now they were practically toe-to-toe. He did his best to ignore her, taking a few steps back until she cornered him against the front door. And with the way he wasn't doing anything to get out of his predicament, she took that as his acceptance and took another leap.

"What..." she cooed, crawling her fingers up the front of his chest like a spider. "You like me? Hmm?"

When he finally looked down at her, she allowed herself to smile, albeit slowly and with calculation.

In a flash Spencer went from nervous to fed-up, weight seeming to visibly lift from his chest as he sank against the door. "You're messing with me..."

"It's so fun."

"You know what, screw you."

"Is that a promise?"

"Maybe it is. What are you gonna do ab—"

She didn't let him finish.

In an instant, Y/N lunged forward and pulled him down for a kiss.

Even though she thought he might have tried to take control of the situation, he ended up surprising her with a wanton moan as his hands clutched at her sides, holding on for dear life. Their bodies and tongues collided in a mess of years worth of pent-up tension, chaotic and wild and fiercely beautiful in a way that put even the greatest first kisses to shame.

And of course, Spencer had to go and ruin it.

He pushed her away and looked almost panicked. "W—Wait, are you even cleared to do this?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, reaching out for him again. "I'm fine."

"Y/N, you were in the hospital! I thought... I thought you were..."

She appreciated the sentiment, but with her entire body on fire from his touch, she decided she needed more of it. "Yeah, but I'm not... I'm very much alive, and you know what?"

He blinked back at her, watching carefully as she leaned in close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It's because of you. You make me feel... more alive than I've ever been."

"And... You're not messing with me this time?"

With a laugh,  Y/N shook her head and leaned up to brush her nose with his. "Nuh-uh... But if you'd like to, I'd love to mess with you in a more fun way. And maybe I'll even let you do it back..."

Spencer hummed, feeling himself gravitate towards her more with every passing second. "Deal."

He barely got the word out all the way before she was dragging him through the maze of flora and contained food and into her bedroom, where piece by piece, their hatred and fondness for one another combined to create the most exquisite of nights.

———

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[monochromatic-stardust]

This long but it is important... vitally important. LIFE SAVING LEVEL OF IMPORTANT particularly in regards to reproductive rights being under major attack, so please, please read.

With Roe being threatened there is a MUCH LARGER THAN EXPECTED (though maybe I shouldn't be surprised tbh), very misinformed, dangerous movement of people sharing herbs that are Abortifacients (which are TOXIC which is how they're able to cause an abortion) to large platforms of people, on all sorts of platforms with social media, from 13 years old and up, and giving HORRIBLE "advice" about it, which is at least 95% misinformation, and thus VERY concerning.

It's particularly prevalent on TikTok and the Discord servers these larger WitchTok creators have set up.

Including, but not limited to, vague AF instructions and dosing amounts, vague or flat out incorrect ways of dosing (tisane vs tincture vs topical vs THE BIG NO NO OF INSERTING IT), and apparently failing to realize that the SAFER and MORE SUCCESSFUL herbal abortions are blends of herbs to help balance the other effects, NOT JUST TAKING A LARGE (or multiple doses) OF A SINGLE TYPE OF HERB that's contraindicated for pregnancy.

PLEASE speak out against this.

Anywhere.

Everywhere.

I'm familiar with herbalism, grew up in a heavily holistic household, enough so that I know how damaging and deadly these methods have the potential to EASILY be, PARTICULARLY WHEN NOT UNDER THE GUIDANCE AND CARE OF A PROFESSIONAL, LICENSED, HERBALIST, preferably also with at least midwife involved.

They're also encouraging people to LIE TO DOCTORS about why they're seeking medical attention if (WHEN) something goes wrong. (Things like "tell them you ate something and now your stomach hurts.)

I have a a small, but decent amount of information and am looking into it further and am happy to share what I know, as well as anything other trustworthy people have made speaking out about it, of which there are plenty of TikToks for example.

But yeah, I am very concerned about how many people might end up with:

1. The "less" serious side effects (and yet, still ranging from potentially permanently damaging to life threatening) like burning a hole in their stomach, raging fevers, vomiting, diarrhea (all potentially extreme enough to need medical attention), dizziness (that sometimes doesn't go away), seizures etc

2. HEMORRHAGING, since some of these herbs increase flow to the pelvic area and uterus while others SLOW CLOTTING AND ALSO WEAKEN THE BLOOD VESSELS.

3. A number of different organs and systems that can be damaged like liver, kidneys, lungs, heart, nervous systems, cardiovascular system, brain, etc...

4. Organ failure/multi organ failure (mostly of those same organs)

5. Not successfully aborting the fetus and instead giving them extreme birth defects etc.

6. DEATH.

(Among other things, of course, like first and foremost allergies you may have to that family of plant, or contraindications for specific health conditions, or medication you're on, or hell your favorite herbal tea, essential oils etc etc)

I know people are scared, scared of losing their rights, scared about "what if" happens to them or someone they love, I know there is a resurgence of witchcraft, and as a result also natural treatments, but it's not coming from SAFE sources and these things really shouldn't be performed without being under the care of someone who knows their shit.

I also know that the lesson that needs to be driven home is one my momma taught us all:

Just because it's natural doesn't mean it's safe. Rattlesnake venom is natural but you don't see people lining up for that. And sure, deadly nightshade and foxglove are natural AND have been turned into the basis of medication commonly used by western doctors even, but if you don't know WTF you're doing with them, they'll kill you, very easily. Flowers we think of as harmless or ornamental can also be CRAZY POISONOUS. Have you heard of Oleander? Lily of the Valley?

As someone who only went through a (fairly short) phase of not using holistic treatments due to toxic living situations and the way I treated for using them plus not being allowed to spend money ON these items, I can honestly say I'm pretty sure I'm only as functional as a human being as I am because the holistic health care treats everything, and fills in the many, many, many gaps in "traditional" western medicine.

My quality of life got better once I was able to start practing what I know again.

I don't want to scare people away from ALL herbalism or holistic care... or to put it more accurately, I don't want to scare people away from herbalism (including Chinese herbalism), aromatherapy, homeopathy, Bach Flower Essences, the various types of body work etc AT ALL, since honestly it can be so good, so helpful, so healing.

By itself or in conjunction with western medicine, holistic health care and approaches to care and healing in general can change your life.

I just wanna put the rightful fear of REAL LIFE CONSEQUENCES into them regarding using unreliable and uneducated sources (like strangers on the internet who spout some shit off but don't go IN DEPTH about the dangers and how you need a professional for any BIG thing you want to do, and for many herbs used to treat many small things... and how you also shouldn't get your advice from all the various MLMs (like they did with Young Living and DoTerra which ALSO resulted in a LARGE increase in serious injuries from the (mis)use of essential oils), which are now starting to crop up regarding witchcraft and as they pick up speed I'm sure they're gonna include "herbal remedies" etc as well, cause essential oils and supplements weren't enough) so that fear of THE POTENTIAL DANGERS like organ failure and DEATH helps make sure they go TO legit fully trained, went to school for it, professional, certified/licensed holistic healthcare practioners who got these degrees from an accredited college and in order to BE certified/licensed they had to pass board exams/other monitored testing to prove they know their shit etc.

/end rant with many apologies for how long this is.

(But also not sorry cause if this helps to save even ONE person from making a bad choice, then it's worth it.)

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

A lot of people wanted a part two of #2, so here it is! (Also thank you for all the kind words I really appreciate it!🥺💖)

Request #6

Warning: non-con touching (nothing sexual), slight body horror, abuse, one-sided attraction.

Honestly, I remember that with #2 I really did have some kind of breakthrough or something lmao. It just came out so good! And this continuation? Well, let's just say that as I was writing it, I got my own stomach to twist a little bit. ;]

Enjoy, dearest anons!

Part 1 here | Next Part

~~~~

Hero's legs burned as they ran with all their might, turning another corner. The halls of Supervillain's lair were like a maze. Everything looked identical no matter where they went. The hero could take twenty different turns and would still be met with the same dead end.

This was bad, very bad. Hero had to get out. They had to get away. The monster- The monster was after them. They had to find an exit, because if the monster caught them...

Hero shivered at the thought but refused to give up just yet. There had to be an exit somewhere! There just had to be! Because if there wasn't one then Hero- then Hero was as good as dead-

The same dead end again. Except this time, the hall leading up to it was much longer. And... And at the end of it was...

"N-No... no, no, no, NO, NO, NONONONONONONONONONONONONO!" - Hero turned on their heel and ran, tears falling from their eyes as their body shook in terror, lungs burning in need of more air. The corner they had turned just moments ago was gone now. There was only one long hallway. Hero could only run forward and nowhere else. They could not leave the monster's line of sight.

They spared a quick glance behind themself.

A mistake.

The monster's face was millimeters from their own, and Hero looked into one of its many eyes.

Another mistake.

Without warning, the hero's mind screamed in agony. They grabbed their head, forgetting that they were running and falling to the ground with a loud thud. They clawed at their temple, trying to get the abnormal pain out of it. Hero realized they were still looking into the monster's eyes. They tried to look away but couldn't. They- They couldn't move.

Their body refused to cooperate. They continued to stare deep into the monster's dark orbs, and as the beast neared them, they pleaded, they begged, they screamed for it to stop.

But the monster was silent, one of its clawed hands grabbing Hero's head, bringing them closer. The pain only worsened as the distance between them shortened.

Hero was apologizing now. What were they even saying 'sorry' for? They didn't know, but maybe it would help? Maybe that's what the beast wanted to hear from them?

The pain only grew. And Hero-

Hero awoke, gasping for air as their entire body shuddered with leftover terror. Where were they? They opened their eyes, but there was only darkness. W-Why? Why was it so dark-

The blindfold. That's right... Hero's eyes were covered so that they couldn't see. They took in a shaky breath in an attempt to calm themself, but it didn't help much.

They decided to focus on their other senses, feeling what was beneath them with their hands. It was soft and warm. Hero found the feeling rather pleasant. The arms around their waist were also quite comforting.

...

Wait, arms? W-WHAT ARMS-

"Did you have a bad dream, darling?" - a voice softly sounded in Hero's ears. They shivered as one of their captor's clawed hands trailed up and down their side, their hold tightening just a fringe.

"S-Supervillain... W-What are you d-doing..?" - they asked, worried confusion taking over their face. Why was Supervillain back already? Hero couldn't have slept for that long! They- What... What even was that dream just now?

Reading their thoughts, the supervillain answered, "Oh, I just happened to get done with work a bit sooner than planned today." - the monster started, nuzzling their face into the hero's hair, adoring their scent. "And, well... You just looked so cute sleeping in my bed. I simply couldn't resist cuddling you~. "

Hero had to resist another shiver trying to move through them. They were just... sleeping on top of the criminal for.. well, who knows how long! And Supervillain... Had they been watching them sleep? Hero couldn't stop the shiver that time.

The monster's grip suddenly tightened but stopped just short of hurting the small hero in their grasp. Said hero's entire body froze. A pit grew in their stomach as Supervillain pulled them closer and whispered lowly in their ear, "What was your dream about, little hero?"

There was an edge to their voice, Hero noticed. Were they angry? B-But why?! Hero hadn't even done anythi-

The dream.

The hero inhaled sharply as a realization hit them. It wasn't a dream. They- They remembered now- IT- IT WASN'T A-

A clawed hand suddenly gripped Hero's neck. They could only whine, terrified as the supervillain's grip threatened to cut off their air. A deep growl echoed in their ear, the monster's hold tightening even more and becoming painful.

"S-Supervillain, please- I-" - Hero never finished as another hand clamped over their mouth, keeping them quiet. Where did the third hand even come from? They didn't know nor needed to, as they had more pressing matters at hand.

"He̠̋ro... My l̟͊ittl̨̉e ̾͢H̺̾ė͈ro... ͛ͅỶͅoụ̿ tr̺̚ǐ̞e͂ͅd ̪̾t͓͑o r̰͕͊̍ư̥̟͈̝̅̆̓̍͢n̤̩̟͓̯͆̒̀͠͝ a̍ͅw̡̲̫̘̣͚̩̆̈͐̌̋̀͝a̹̜͙̎̿̄y͕͡ ." - Supervillain's voice had grown octaves deeper. It sounded... corrupted as it echoed in Hero's ear. It made their head hurt. They shook once more as a familiar pain brushed against the edges of their mind.

"Y̘̋ou th͚̆o̜͘ug͘͜h̖̽t͕̀ ͍̄y͕̒o̤̕u c̪̐oul̲̿d ̯͆j̮̎ust ̥̀g̙̈et awa̛͖y, ͇̇hm̓͟m?" - Hero could practically feel the other's anger- no, rage filling the room. It felt suffocating, it was making them struggle to breathe. Or was it the hand at their throat squeezing too tightly? They couldn't tell. Everything was starting to hurt. That- That pain from before- It was all coming back-

Hero whimpered against the hand at their lips as more arms came seemingly out of nowhere. They still couldn't see anything. They could only feel them wrapping around their small form, slowly crushing them.

The hero felt the tears flowing down their face, their terror growing as the grip on their neck tightened, just a pinch away from choking them. They could only breathe through their nose, and it hurt. It hurt so much. Everything hurt so, so much. Their heart was hammering against their ribcage, trying to get out. They- They couldn't get out- They couldn't- They-

They screamed as sharp teeth wrapped around their neck, about to bite.

Hero tried to struggle against the monster. They writhed and fought, but their body didn't even budge. Not even their head moved. They screamed out loud but were muffled. So they screamed inside their mind, crying out, begging, making promises the hero knew they would regret making.

But nothing worked. They could feel Supervillain's teeth slowly sinking into them, breaking their skin with ease. They tried to jerk their head away one more time, but it did nothing. Nothing worked, there was nothing they could do.

They grimly realized just how powerless they were, and even though it changed nothing, they squeezed their eyes shut, and went limp in the monster's hold, submitting to them. Only muffled sobs escaped the hero, their head empty of thoughts or pleas. Hero-

Hero-

Hero flinched as a gentle kiss landed on their neck. The razor-sharp teeth from before were now gone. They whined, confused and scared. They didn't understand.

The many arms holding them loosened their grip, the hand around their throat released completely but did not leave. The hero gasped for the precious air their lungs were demanding as the hand on their mouth pulled away. However, once they got a good lungful of oxygen, the hand moved back to cover their mouth. A whimper left Hero as its fingertips brushed against their face, a weak "Please..." managed to slip past their lips, their voice cracking, broken, and petrified.

But Hero's plea was for nothing. They shook as the hand covered their mouth once more but said nothing else. A shiver ran down their spine as a trail of more gentle kisses was left upon their neck, the last one underneath the hero's ear, in which Supervillain whispered, "Do you understand now, little hero?"

The monster's voice was back to normal, but Hero's stomach twisted into knots regardless. Not awaiting an answer, the supervillain continued, "Do you understand that I'm in charge here? That I'm choosing to be nice to you?"

The hand laying on Hero's throat squeezed once more, just the slightest amount, and they froze at the feeling, more sobs threatening to rip out of them. "I could do so many terrible things to you, little hero. And yet, in the three months that you've been here, I've never actually hurt you, now have I?"

Their throat was released a second time, and Hero couldn't deny it. Supervillain could do whatever they wanted with them. They could easily hurt them or- or use them. But they hadn't. The entire time that the hero had been here, the supervillain was always very gentle towards them. Perhaps they scared them every once in a while, but Supervillain never did anything... extreme...

"A smart conclusion as always, Hero~." - the way the supervillain said Hero's name made them shudder. They were still helpless in their grasp, but at least they were no longer on the verge of having a heart attack.

Supervillain chuckled as they read the hero's mind. They left another kiss on their neck, before continuing, "Will you play nice now, little hero~?"

"I-I will." - Hero answered in their mind.

"Good~." - the monster purred. "That means that you'll keep all those promises you made a few minutes ago, right?" - they asked with a grin, and Hero froze once more, their muscles tensing in new fear.

"Mmm, what was it that you promised again..?" - Supervillain mused, pretending not to remember, just so that they could smell their hero's fright in the air. "You promised to... do anything I asked for~?"

Another whine escaped Hero as their body began to shake against the other's. The arms holding them tightening. The hand at their throat squeezing again. A few small, still muffled sobs escaped them as Supervillain's sharp teeth brushed against their ear, "Well, Hero?" - the monster pressed.

"I-I I'll do whatever you w-want, j-j-just... P-Please just don't h-hurt me." - even inside their mind, Hero's voice still broke and quivered. They whimpered as Supervillain relaxed their hold once again, their various hands now caressing and petting the hero's body. "Oh, of course I won't hurt you, Hero..."

The blindfold around Hero's eyes suddenly got torn away, and they opened their eyes out of reflex. At first, they thought nothing had changed, as there was darkness all around them. But then their brain registered all the eyes around them. They noticed the darkness surrounding them moved unlike normal shadows but rather like living flesh. Out of the corner of their eye, they could see that the giant mass around them was connected to Supervillain's body.

Hero tried to close their eyes in their terror but found that they couldn't. They could only stare wide-eyed, breathing growing unsteady as a hand somehow formed in the dark, a terrible sound of wet flesh squelching and bones cracking echoing across the entire room.

They whimpered as the new hand cradled their cheek, thumb wiping away some of their tears, all the eyes focused on them as the monster finished their sentence,

"...No̼͡t̠̾ uṋ̓l̳̔eś̼s̩̽ ̫͋yo̻͞u ̮́ģ͒ive m̙̏e a r̮̂e̾͜a̺̽ṡ͎on̎͢ ̧͂ṱ̾o."

And then, at last, the sweet embrace of slumber overtook Hero's body and mind.