#like my mom had to get a new car with a payment she can barely afford w tons of interest because of bad credit so it also makes you poorer

[jennifersbod]

European here but... whats a credit score?

you’re so lucky to not know this. basically it’s a record of how financially risky (or not risky) you are based on past loans, credit cards, hospital payments, etc. you need to have loans or credit cards to actually have a good score, but if you’re late on a payment or pay off too much at once it’ll go down. it’s used for basically everything that’s big financially: housing (can’t qualify for most decent apartments or mortgages with bad credit), school (student loans), etc.

[enviedear]

Hi I love your neighbor!Ben oneshot!! Can I ask if you have anymore headcanons for him?

—aw hi nonnie! ofc i do, i'm always thinking about neighbor!ben. thank you for sending in an ask <3

request | masterlist

neighbor!BEN SOLO...

— he is most definitely the kind of neighbor to knock on your door and ask for sugar or some shit. he always insists it's for leia, but he won't admit that he's the one telling his mom that he'll run over to yours and ask.

"hey neighbor, mom wanted to know if you have any powdered sugar?" "gosh ben, i just gave you some."

— he loves spending his free time in his garage, wide open, blaring music and working on his (and han's) car. i think these songs would be frequently playing from his speaker, 1 | 2 | 3

— insists on mowing your grass, even though your dad can do it just fine. no, ben likes having an excuse to strut around shirtless in your yard. he also will never accept payment for it.

"i can't let you pay me, sir. it's really no trouble."

— when he and his parents get invited over for dinner he'll make sure to ask you about all things poli-sci (he loves to bring up his minor all the time), headlining legal news, and nineteeth century philosophers. if you can keep up with him, he'll get sardonic and try to get you to fumble. if you're lost, he'll be subtly demeaning and solipsistic.

"let me guess? you think dostoevsky had the world figured out don't you?" "yes. why? do you want me to follow the teachings of comte as religiously as you?" he'd grin, "i'm just making conversation, kid."

— ben would always go on night runs, and on days he actually gets off on time, they end up coenciding with the time you walk your dog. he'll find so much joy in catching up to you and annoying the absolute shit out of you.

"you and cujo should really speed up, i can't jog the entire time." "no one asked you to stay with us."

— on the night run note, one evening he'd see a 'missing dog' poster that barely resembles yours and he'd accuse you of being a dog napper.

"holy shit kid, you can't steal people's dogs!" "shut up solo! i haven't stolen anyone's dog." "oh yeah? then why does this ankle biter look exactly like the one in the picture?"

— he really would just do any stupid or barely thought-out thing to get your attention

— he has no personal space, at least when it comes to you. he'll brush against you no question to grab something, he'll let his hands rest on your shoulders when he's behind you, and he'll cut your steak for you without even giving you a questioning glance.

"i can do some things myself you know." you'd groan, when he begins to cut your rib-eye. only for your mother to pipe in, "honey he's being nice! ignore her ben!"

— ben would constantly be invited to family trips, dinners, and events. especially when your parents catch wind that leia and han aren't home much. so expect ben solo to come along for a day trip into the city with you and your parents.

"you don't have to follow me around. i can navigate a museum on my own." "chill out, kid. i'm just trying to get a good eye on the best installation." you'd pause, "are you... talking about me?" with a smirk he'd reply, "you'd like that, wouldn't you."

— you'd take up a little job tending to leia's garden when she's away, and ben will always make sure to keep you in his eyes. he likes the way you look in overalls and his old batman potting gloves.

— after you're done in the garden he'll give you a glass of homemade lemonade with a sprig of mint. he lets you poke fun of him for it.

"all for me, solo?" "hmm, who else?"

— just like ben, you refuse to be paid for your little side gig. but ben will always leave a crisp twenty in your mailbox the day after. you take them and keep them in a red envelope with the words, 'from hot neighbor', written on the flap in sharpie.

han would catch him doing it one day and say, "can't pay yourself a girlfriend, son." ben would just roll his eyes, "it's not even like that. i'm just trying to not be a cheapskate like you." "sure, son. whatever you say."

[curtsycream]

Love Grows

Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!Reader

A/N: This was just a passing thought of a ficlet that I can make a part two for maybe. I just really love the song Love Grows it’s so beautiful and I’m manifesting that someone uses that song to describe me one day.

Wild, Free, and Beautiful.

Those three words that Steve would always use to describe the girl cartwheeling around his backyard. A bright smile on her face as her laughter carries over the fence into the ears of others. Not once has he seen anything but a smile on her face, even in the face of those who didn’t like her.

He met her when she first moved to Hawkins during his junior year of highschool. After second period is when he noticed her, she was dressed in clothes that were bright and barely matched. Her hair was doneup in a way that was wild and free. All he could hear by fifth period was that she was crazy and clearly didn’t know much about the real world.

But for some reason that didn’t deter him from talking to her after school. She had walked up to him with a wide smile that seemed to be brighter than her clothing. “Hi, I’m Y/N! I’m new here and I wanted to ask if you knew the way to the bus stop. You see my mom dropped me off this morning but she’s busy teaching yoga at this school for the old and restless. At least I think that’s what it’s called..”

Steve found himself staring at her, for some reason he couldn’t help but look at her. Her voice was kind of lazy but loud and eager in a way that somehow contradicted itself. She rambled on and on without a pause as if she was conversing with herself now and not him.

Clearing his throat he decides to intervene, “I can drive you…drive you home I mean.”

Wide eyes met his own as she nodded her head, “I’d love that!”

Opening the already unlocked door of his car she got in leaving Steve to lean against his car. He did a slight double take at how she didn’t even hesitate. Shaking his head he gets into his car, “I’m Steve by the way.”

“Hi Steve, I’m Y/N!”

He had to admit she was rather strange but he found it endearing for some reason. As he drove she gave him directions she spoke with her arms a lot, that was something he noticed. Once they arrived at her house he could only gawk at it. The house was almost a representation of Y/N as it was covered in primary colors. It was almost as if a child was given the liberty to paint a house. Yet it stood out in a way that he wasn’t sure was good or bad yet.

Getting out of the car Y/N slings her backpack over her shoulder shutting the door. Thinking she would just run into her house without a goodbye he was ready to peel off. That was until a knock on his window startled him as he rolled the window down.

“Thanks for the ride Steve, here is your payment.”

She placed something in his hand before dashing up to her door rushing in. Looking down at his hand he noticed four buttons in his hand. A chuckle escaping him at the odd form of payment from the even odder girl.

After that day the two of them found themselves meeting up more often. Beyond the car rides she started showing up at his locker and at his lunch table. And each time she showed up he’d get this unexplainable feeling in his stomach.

“It’s love, goober.”

“Are you sure? I mean I’m not expert but this is Steve we’re talking about, Robin.”

Rolling his eyes at Eddie and Robin he crosses his arms over his chest. “Is this really a time to insult me?”

“Anytime is a good time to insult you.”

Ignoring the cherub goblin he looks over at Nancy who was busy looking through her notes with her boyfriend, Jonathan.

“Nance.”

“It sounds like you do love her, but I think you already know this. Why not make a move lover boy?”

Sitting up straighter he actually considered Nancy’s words, maybe he did love her. While he would tell his friends that he found her little visits somewhat annoying they knew he was lying. He anticipated her random talks, that were very one sided, along with how she always wanted to spend time with him.

“Hi Steve, it’s me Y/N.”

Snapping out of his thoughts he noticed her sitting beside him with half a PB and J in her hand. That same silly smile on her face as she waved her hand at him. How could he not love a face like that it was as if lobe grew wherever she went. Especially when she held his hand it was if he was under a spell he didn’t want to break.

Maybe he did love her…

[la-lauren]

I had a truly miserable day, but I’m very proud of my body for handling everything like a champ.

We (me and my body) left the house at 6:45 and didn’t make it to work until 8:30 on the dot. I barely was able to clock in on time — but I did! My first assignment was horrible staffing wise. Everyone had the worst attitude ever, no one wanted to answer questions, and then I watched my neighbor accept cash as payment but not actually ring up the food, so, stealing. The girl on the other side of her saw it too, we talked about it to make sure we saw what we saw, and we told the manager. Manager spoke to girly, but of course without proof, it was just a talking. Girly was not having that. She cussed me out so loudly and lied straight to my face and tried to make me look bad. Other managers outside our stand heard and came over to ask the problem. She cussed them out too, and they didn’t even care. She then went down the line in our stand telling everyone I was a liar and yada yada. I looked her straight in the eyes and said with the calmest voice I didn’t even know I had, “You’re loud, but you’re a liar. Yelling something that isn’t true doesn’t make it true.”

Then I found the manager again and said I didn’t want to work in that environment, so I’d be leaving. They asked if I could be moved to another stand instead of leaving, and I agreed. Basically because we didn’t have proof, girly got to stay, and they couldn’t do anything about it.

May karma bite her so hard in the ass.

And maybe it wasn’t my business, but she easily could have made $1k/hr pocketing people’s order money, and the end result is the cost of items going up for everyone because she and others like her are greedy.

At my next stand, a girl wasn’t doing that, but she was still taking cash for something she shouldn’t. We weren’t supposed to give refills, but she would charge $2 cash and do it anyway. I didn’t say anything about her. Two reasons — 1. She wasn’t a bitch. 2. The original products were at least paid for. We also had bigger problems to handle, like the fact that our tiny kitchen couldn’t handle the demand.

Honestly, part of the reason I told on the first girl is because she was a total bitch otherwise too. She wouldn’t answer any of my questions, and then if I did what the supervisor told me to do, she’d yell at me for it, even though I had asked her the question first. I didn’t go into the shift trying to rock the boat, but the swindling was my final straw with her. She’s apparently worked there 8 years.

The fact that so many people just look out for themselves makes me not want to participate in the world. I hate big corporations as much as the next person, but giving free products and pocketing the money that should have paid for it affects us all in the end.

Every day, I see rules that are made and how virtually no one cares to follow them if they can benefit from not. But most rules are there to benefit us as a society.

I just … ugh, I want to scream.

In other news, I had the second interview with the nanny family today. It was wife and husband together, no kids. They were super sweet and honestly reminded me a LOT of Josh’s brother and SIL. The mom looked just like Dorothy, and she had so many of her mannerisms. I think it went well overall. I’d get a car to drive them around, I’d have a credit card from them to pay for all the expenses, and I’d mostly be a chauffeur. Sounds pretty good to me at $25/hr plus I’d be able to buy myself meals while we’re out, like she suggested coming to the big Whole Foods we met at for kids to play the arcade games and have dinner there. I will not pass up a free Whole Foods meal.

I hope it works out. 🤞🏼 I don’t ever want to have to work a concession job ever again.

[ateezmakemeweep]

playing with fire (part 1)

word count: 23k

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

(series masterlist)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but it never seemed to get to your friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re sick.”

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

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

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

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

but your parents were the opposite.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

because it’s not like it would go anywhere.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“her bedroom’s down that hall?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and apparently, so will you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“how was your semester?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“are you okay with the-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

not someone who gets your heart and body pounding.

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

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

he hope for his sake, she doesn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

never looking so... teasing and playful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but you didn’t have to know that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sweet dreams, y/n!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he doesn’t know when this happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“am i? or are you girls just early?”

“i’m not a girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

even if, sometimes, you wanted to kill her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“but dad, she totally-”

“maybe you should’ve taught your daughter-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(he did).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but she could’t know that.

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

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

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

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

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

“do you still wanna come with me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m sorry about my wife last night.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“eunbi...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“do you miss seeing them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what? she beeped at me.”

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

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

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

“where to first, mr. park?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“is this what you wanted?”

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

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

“w-what?”

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

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

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

“oh... i... yes,” you finally say, coming to your senses and not allowing yourself to think this way anymore. “that’s the one. i hope it’s okay.”

“of course,” he hums, placing the bread in the cart before going back to the front handles. “you can get anything you want, i already told you that.”

you nod dumbly as you follow beside him, seonghwa picking more things off the shelves and muttering the list to himself as you try to get your shit together.

because yes, you’re attracted to him and yes, you’ve found yourself alone with him for more than two days in a row and yes, there’s been some lingering looks and touches but that doesn’t mean anything.

you can’t let your own deluded thoughts and desires get in the way of reality.

the reality that he’s your friend and roommate’s married father and you’re a college student. he doesn’t want you just as much as you shouldn’t want him so what’s the problem here?

maybe it’s that you’re a 22-year-old woman who’s only been on a handful of dates.

that the last time you made out with someone was when you were drunk and dared to kiss the first guy that walked through the bar (luckily, somewhat attractive and surprisingly polite).

that, maybe, you’re so horribly touch-starved and aching for affection, you’re trying to find it in a hot father figure who’s just as kind as he sexy - and that, you think, is the second most tragic thing here.

because the first would absolutely be thinking that any of this, any of these stares or touches or coincidences of eunbi leaving you two alone, means something.

means that maybe this break is for you two is create an attraction and build some sort of bond and-

“y/n.”

you’re barely able to register seonghwa’s voice before his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling your body into his taller one and having you pressed up right against him.

you were so lost in thought of him that you didn’t see the older women skirting her cart around the aisle quickly, phone pressed to her ear as she yells to her husband about the christmas ham.

you’re not even sure if she shoots you a look of sorrow or utters any apology, too consumed and distracted by the feeling and proximity of mr. park.

his arm wrapped around you, your body pressed flush up against him, his neck craned down to look at you with a building... something in his eyes. playfulness and teasing but also something darker, something that makes your stomach swoop and renders you unable to move.

“are you always so clumsy and distracted?” he mumbles lowly, his deep voice quiet for only you two to hear - like he knows even in a sea of strangers, he has to keep these interactions quiet.

“what would you do if i wasn’t here to help you, y/n?”

i wouldn’t have been distracted in the first place, you’re tempted to say - but you certainly don’t wanna open that can of worms, especially not in the middle of this grocery store with the way your heart is pounding.

“i... i’m sorry, i was distracted,” you mutter, playing up the damsel in distress just a little bit. “my mistake, mr. park.”

he licks over his lips, swearing his name just being spoken has never effected him like this. he doesn’t even know where this attraction came from, seeing you leave the dorm building yesterday morning and something in his body jumping at the sight of you.

maybe it’s just showing how unhappy he really is with his life, living day to day to just work. hang out with his friends and go to sleep alone - he doesn’t remember the last time his wife touched him, looked at him like she wanted him or made any move to be with him.

he just knows that you showed up, looking so pretty and wide-eyed and coy, and is now about to lose his mind.

“it’s alright,” he says, hoping you don’t hear the thick tension he hears in his own voice, like he’s some idiotic, hormonal young boy. “i think we only have a few more aisles left, anyway.”

he plucks the remaining items off the shelves before you both make your way to the self check-out, him scanning and you bagging because “eunbi says if my career as a photographer fails, i could be the best grocery bagger ever.”

“that’s just because she puts the bread on the bottom,” seonghwa mutters, a smile on your face as you nod your head - she squished one too many of your brioche loafs before you realized bagging just wasn’t for her.

your fingers graze ever so often, the coldness of his tips a stark contrast to your warmer ones.

a particularly big, bulk bag of vegetables proves to be a challenge for you, working through the packed bag with some difficulty. you let out an annoyed groan as you play a dangerous game of tetris, trying not to rip open the brown paper bag.

you finally get the box inside, a little bit prouder than you care to admit, when your precious brioche loaf is dropped right atop. you look up at seonghwa to see him already apologizing, your brow raised as you look at the older man in confusion.

did he think your hand was out? why would he just throw the food at you?

but it’s only when you feel a little more air than normal on your chest that you see what could’ve possibly caused the distraction, the white lace from your bra sticking out.

your cleavage in this dress was hidden for the most part, only becoming a little more obvious when you moved around or packed a shitload of groceries. it makes you bite back a smirk as you put two and two together, looking up to see his eyes still lingering over you.

two can play at this game mr. park.

“mr. park,” you begin, feigning a certain kind of innocence as you place your bread atop the other groceries and finally look up at him. “are you always so clumsy?”

it takes a few seconds for a smile to pull at his lips, the tick in his jaw not going unnoticed to you - so maybe this wasn’t all in your head. maybe he wants you too... possibly.

“you’re funny, y/n,” he mumbles, a smile pulling at your lips as he takes out his black card. “i guess i was distracted, too.”

you swallow the lump in your throat as you feel the slightest hint of arousal run through you, shaking it off and letting out a forced, girlish chuckle.

you pack the car a few minutes later without any lingering eyes or touches, seonghwa telling you about the meals they plan on cooking for christmas.

they usually don’t make their own food for holidays but decided to have a more traditional set up for you and eunbi’s arrival - he also hasn’t cooked a meal for his family in god knows how long.

“that’ll be great, thank you,” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt in as he backs out the spot. “i’m kind of a picky eater but i’ll eat anything you guys provide me.”

“and you have the whole brioche loaf,” seonghwa says, a giggle leaving your mouth as you nod your head.

“true. it’s really good.”

“i’ve never tried, perhaps you’d be willing to-”

his wife’s name popping up on his car dashboard acts as a way to bring you back to reality, brings a certain kind of silence over the both of you for a few seconds.

like he wasn’t just rubbing his body against yours and you weren’t just flirting with him in the form of smirking lips and snarky comments.

you watch a twinge of annoyance behind seonghwa’s eyes, gaze roaming over the screen as if he’s in contemplation before muttering “one second.”

“hello?”

“where are you?” her voice snaps in annoyance, “i told you we had that board meeting at one.”

“and it’s only noon,” his deep voice mumbles, not matching her level of irritation but sounding a whole lot different than a few seconds ago. “me and y/n are coming back now.”

“y/n?” she spats, like it’s a disgusting piece of food she wouldn’t dare put in her mouth. “what about eunbi?”

“she went off with jiwoon before i could get her in the car.”

“so it was only you two?” she asks, the snide judgment and underlying tone in her voice causing your stomach to churn. “did she ask you to buy a bunch of-”

“i’ll be home in twenty and then be on my way over,” he says, cutting her off and hanging up before she can even get another word you.

your stomach churns and a sick feeling comes over you, her utter dislike and disdain for you causing you to bite your lip.

because not only does she not like you to be with her daughter, she doesn’t want you with her husband (although, you suppose, you can’t really blame her for that one).

“i’m sorry about that,” seonghwa winces, the silence lingering between you two heavy. “you could’ve gotten anything you wanted, y/n. this is your christmas too. don’t feel bad about anything, okay?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, your gaze moving to his as he stops at the red light.

your eyes lingering over his and his doing the very same, hand twitching to reach out and move the piece of hair from your slightly flushed face.

and there was something about the way you were both looking at each other, eyes so focused and unwavering and honest, that had you thinking maybe all of this wasn’t in your heads.

but it didn’t mean either of you could act on it - they were just... feelings of lust and wonder and all things forbidden, not seriously believing that a relationship like this could unfold right under the nose of his wife, his daughter and your roommate.

unless the pull was so desperate.

so overwhelming and all-consuming and present between the both of you, little moments couldn’t help but happen.

strike one:

with none other than eunbi as a distraction, the girl promising she wasn’t gonna leave you alone anymore, you were able to take your mind off everything.

the tension-filled, heart pounding moments with mr. park that felt just as wrong as they did right.

you spent a few nights going out with her, jiwoon and all of their high school friends, a surprisingly nice group of young adults who you got along well with.

they were loud and crazy and did far too many shots but they also seemed to be genuinely kind. even the boy who was flirting with you all night, handsome and tall with pretty dark eyes, acted as a good distraction.

grinding up against him as the music pounded throughout the bar, alcohol coursing through your veins allowing you to forget about the older man who’s been living in your head for almost a week now.

“how have i never met you before, y/n?” the boy mumbled lowly in your ear, your head against his shoulder carelessly.

but it was right there in that moment, him saying your name, that the moment was over.

because it just didn’t sound like seonghwa, as delusional as that was.

it didn’t get your heart racing or lips quirking the same way it did when you heard the older man say it. the smile attached to his handsome, mature face and the deep, lowly spoken tone that always held a hint of teasing and sincerity.

“but danny really is so freakin’ nice!” eunbi squeals to you on christmas eve, the two of you in her immaculately white and modern kitchen prepping the chocolate chip cookie cough for tomorrow.

“and you two seemed to be getting along, i saw your ass all up on him.”

“eunbi, that wasn’t me. that was the vodka. i don’t know who that girl was.”

she throws her head back as a loud chuckle leaves her, telling you again that she warned you her snobby, rich little friends have been able to handle their liquor since middle school.

it’s how they cope, she had said, unloved kids with more money than god learning to deal with the world of limitless funds and minimal parental supervision.

“well he hasn’t stopped asking me about you, you know,” she hums, her eyebrows quirked suggestively as she mixes the bowl of ingredients lazily.

“and not just because of your newfound grinding skills, which by the way, are usually learned by the tenth grade.”

your eyes narrow at her comment, throwing a small ball of dough at her that she, impressively, catches in her mouth.

“he really is just, like, so taken by you, y/n. seriously. i told him that you’re graduating this year with a degree in photography and he nearly came in his pants. he loves the artsy girls.”

“you are so vile,” you snort out, shaking your head at the girl sitting criss-crossed on the counter. “and stop saying that. we both know i’m not graduating this year,” you mumble, her face falling pathetically.

“i told you we’re gonna find a way,” she whines lowly, looking at you with all kinds of sympathy and sadness in her eyes - she would offer to pay for you, if she didn’t think you would smack her upside the head.

“oh and what? is my new boyfriend danny gonna do that for me?”

“in exchange for more grinding and a photoshoot, i think. do you want me to try?”

she lets out another giggle despite the way you pinch her leg, peeking inside the bowl with a surprising amount of pride.

"this looks good,” you mumble, swiping your finger to collect some of the chocolate dough.

“hey!” she whines brattily, thrusting a spoon toward your hand just a second too late.  

“why are you whining in here like a child, eunbi?” seonghwa asks, walking through the entryway and the large, white island in the center. “what are you making? please don’t burn the house down.”

“haha dad, you’re so funny,” she mocks sarcastically, jumping down from the counter with her hands on her hips. “where are the baking sheets?”

a simple shrug from her father causes her to roll her eyes, grumbling about how she was really trying to avoid her bitch of a mother today. he holds back his smirk, about to reprimand her before she’s out the kitchen and shouting for her mother upstairs.

it’s only you and seonghwa in the kitchen now, a heavy silence in the air as you stand there dumbly - bowl beside you, cookie dough adorning the top of your finger.

“what are you girls making?” he finally asks, his body moving closer and closer causing you to swallow.

“i... uh, cookie dough. for tomorrow,” you say, lifting your finger and wiggling the tip full of batter. “chocolate chip.”

his eyes move to your finger before grazing over your mouth, his tongue peeking out ever so slightly as he reminds himself to act right.

he hasn’t been alone with you since that day at the food store, just seeing you in passing in the hallways or outside the house as you and eunbi went to and fro.

he hears your giggles at night and tired groans in the morning, quietly yelling at his daughter to wake up and get her ass out of bed.

and he knows it’s probably for the better, that you two don’t find yourselves alone with each other, but he can’t help but feel a rush of excitement right now.

you watch as he moves closer, with the same wide-eyed look you’ve been giving him since he first saw you in your apartment weeks ago.

“ahh, you’re making it from scratch? that’s ambitious.”

“yeah, we googled a recipe,” you tell him, finger still beside you in the air.

you don’t know what causes you to be so bold, maybe him attempting to carry out a normal conversation even though he’s looking at you with so much lust and desire, but you can’t stop once you start.

“how’s it taste?” he asks, his voice deep and slightly strained as he nods his head toward your finger.

you don’t even bat an eye as you slip the tip of your finger in your mouth slowly, swirling your tongue around as you take up all the dough on your skin.

it’s sweeter than you originally thought it’d be but it tastes good nonetheless, keeping your eyes on him as you reamin as innocent and unassuming as possible.

“it’s good,” you say, dropping your finger like you didn’t just make a show of licking and sucking it. “i like it better raw.”

you don’t even realize your words until you see the fleeting look on his face, tongue swiping across his lip and eyes hardening. they roam you so slowly and darkly, you can’t control the growing butterflies and swooping in your lower stomach.

“mm, me too,” he hums lowly, the hardening of his cock in his pants something he hasn’t felt in forever. it’s taking everything in him to control himself, from his eyes popping out of his head to letting out the deepest of growls in the back of his throat.

“do you want some?” you ask, cocking your head to the side questioningly.

he has to desperately hold on to his composure, not think about how easy it’d be to pin you against the cabinet right behind you. take just a few steps closer, have your back against the cold granite and let you feel just how much he wants some.

but he has to play it cool, push down these building desires and ignore your teasing because he’s almost fucking positive that’s what’s happening here.

“want some what?” he asks, his voice lowering just a tad.

he hasn’t played a game like this since college, watching as your eyes widen and brow quirks up.

but he sees that’s exactly what it is when you turn around and face the bowl of cookie dough to him, a smile just as sweet as the cookies on your face.

“cookie dough. before we put them in the oven and possibly burn them.”

the breathy chuckle he lets out leaves your stomach in shambles, his tongue peeking out and poking the inside of his cheek causing a swooping sensation to flood through you.

but before he can even think to say anything, before your eyes can look over his body and make you feel even more warm and bothered, eunbi floats back in and fiddles in the cabinets for the baking sheets.

“that woman is too much, i swear,” she grunts, whipping out the materials quickly before her head snaps to her father. “why are you still here?”

“i wanted some cookies. and to ensure y/n won’t allow you do burn down the kitchen.”

“it was one time, dad, and an accident. how many times do i have to defend myself in this house?”

you let out a giggle as you look from eunbi to seonghwa, your roommate turning her back to set up the practice baking session.

“let’s go bitch! i hope we didn’t fuck this up.”

seonghwa’s eyes roam over you for a few more moments, his tongue swiping across his lips before, finally, leaving the kitchen with his dick hard as a rock.

strike two:

christmas consisted of successful cookies per your and eunbi’s homemade batch, passive aggressive comments from mrs. park about your degree and a whole fuck ton of sexual energy between you and seonghwa.

you could almost always feel when his gaze was boring into you, when you got up to take more mashed potatoes or kept your attention on eunbi as she told her parents about what job she wants to start at next semester.  

it’s also when eunbi almost let it slip about your scholarships, had you not viciously pinched her arm and caused a pained cry to leave her mouth - if you ever thought jiwoon was gonna verbally assault you, it was certainly in that moment.

“why did you pinch me so hard?” she whined later that night, jiwoon passed out on the couch after five too many homemade cookies. “look at my bruise.”

a genuine frown crosses your lips as you look at her arm, rubbing her skin gently as you mumble your soft spoken apologies.

“i’m sorry but i just... i didn’t want your mom to know that,” you say back just as whiney and pathetic. “she already thinks i’m an incompetent idiot. knowing i have to wait a whole year because i’m broke is just too embarrassing.”

it’s an admission that, while eunbi already suspected that, still makes her feel bad - it nearly makes her wanna cry, that you don’t feel welcomed and loved in her home because her mom has to be a judgmental bitch.

“y/n...”

“bi, it’s fine, oh, my god do not cry right now,” you grumble, flicking her in the head lightly.

“i just feel bad,” she cries lowly, moving hrself closer to you and away from her boyfried. “it’s not fair, y/n. you worked so hard and now you have to wait. how could they do this to you?”

a small, touched smile crosses your face at eunbi as you shake your head, dabbing at her watery eyes.

if jiwoon wakes up, he’s literally gonna beat my ass,” you say, smiling when a wet giggle leaves eunbi; you don’t want this time to be sad or upsetting. “i thought he was gonna hit me at dinner.”

“okay if he’s hitting anything, it’s gonna be my-”

“no. no, no, no.”

the snort that leaves her mouth doesn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach, looking at you with a frown still adorning her face.

“i’m sorry if my mom’s making you feel uncomfortable. she does it to every single person ever and i don’t-”

“it’s fine, please stop apologizing for her,” you say, the sinking reminder in the back of your mind that seonghwa had been doing the very same thing - apologizing for that woman.

“i know she’s stressing you out, too. we’re in it together.”

“that’s true,” she sighs, letting out a long, dramatic groan before resting her head on your shoulder. “i’m so bloated, i don’t think i’m ever gonna be able to eat again.”

and it was funny that, days after the holiday, eunbi was still convinced that she was bloated from christmas dinner.

“babe, i don’t even think that’s possible,” jiwoon consoled her, you and him sitting in her room as she gets ready to go down to the pool.

because, naturally, like everyone in this godforsaken rich town, they get ready to go to the pool that’s inside of their homes; when eunbi told you to pack a bathing suit back at your apartment, you looked at her like she was insane.

until she clarified that her pool is heated and, conveniently, indoors.

“just through the backyard,” she had said - and she truly meant it.

just a few yards away from the main deck area, with floor to ceiling glass windows that showcase the extravagant landscaping and, of course, the outdoor pool and jacuzzi just a few feet away.

“eunbi, this is insane,” you say, marveling at the sight before you.

“don’t you wish you came sooner?” she asks with a wink, your eyes rolling as you place down your towel.

you had the option to bring two bathing suits - a skimpy black one you don’t remember being so scandalous or a red one you remember eunbi insisting you buy last summer.

and you just knew it was because danny was coming, currently showcasing his impressive eight pack that, truly, just doesn’t do it for you - maybe if he was twenty years older, apparently, and somebody’s father and husband.

you shake the thoughts out of your head, walking a few steps toward the pool before eunbi tackles you from behind. you both land with a loud splash, followed by the excited shouts and loud splashes of her other friends.

you’d be lying if you said you could remember the last time you had this much fun, splashing and giggling and acting so carefree despite the many challenges you’ll have to face soon.

but that’s not any of your concern right now, currently sitting atop danny’s shoulders and trying to knock down eunbi in a game of chicken.

“you little bitch! get your nails out of me!”

“coming from the girl who literally just tried to choke me two seconds ago!”

“like it’s your first time being choked!”

and you don’t know whether jiwoon was shocked by you saying that statement or the fact that his girlfriend exposes all of her sexual kinks to you but alas, it did the trick in sealing you a victory.

a smug smile on your face as danny jumps up and down in excitement, your body bouncing and nearly falling over him had you not gripped onto his shoulders.

it’s at that time eunbi pops up from the water, hair a soaking mess and mascara running down her face. she’s about to open her mouth, probably to yell at you, before a volleyball is thrown through the air and just misses her face.

instead, it hits danny square in the head. the boy letting out a yelp before you promptly fall backwards in the water, hearing eunbi’s shrill squeal and giggle on your way down.

you pop up and throw her a dirty look, danny rubbing at the back of his side before apologizing profusely.

“it’s okay,” you giggle out, about to say you shouldn’t have been up there for so long before eunbi’s squealing in the air.

“dad, what the hell kind of aim was that!”

you feel your body stiffen before you quickly shoot around, none another than mr. park standing there looking as handsome as ever.

he puts the young men around you to shame, good-looking, muscular college boys who anyone in their right mind would find attractive - but they just don’t beat him.

his striking eyes or tall, lean stature or the fact that he’s just so fucking-

“got worse with age, bi, what can i say?” he chuckles, extra white fluffy towels in his hold that he places on the chair. “sorry, danny.”

seonghwa’s known danny for a few years now, one of jiwoon’s friends who seems... alright. not a bad guy but also not a good guy - just kind of there; but it didn’t occur to the man just how much he was bothered by him until he saw you on his shoulders.

because he could’ve put you in danger, of course. put you in danger at his house where if things got bad, he’d be responsible; as for the ball, it merely slipped from his finger tips.

“no problem mr. park,” the kid smiles, the other friends gathering around and looking at him expectantly. “we’re gonna play a round of volleyball. you in?”

“no. no dads allowed,” eunbi whines, seonghwa rolling his eyes at his bratty adult daughter.

“why not? because i’m better than all of you, eunbi?”

“oh please,” she grumbles lowly, rolling her eyes and grabbing you to lead you toward the stairs. “you know what, we’re going in the hot tub anyway. since she decided to rock my shit in chicken. enjoy my father traitors,” eunbi grumbles to jiwoon and his friends.

“i did not,” you protest weakly, feeling two pairs of eyes on you as you make your way out of the pool with your friend.

the first thing that strikes seonghwa, apart from the major twitch in his pants, is how skimpy your bikini is.

red bottoms with thin straps holding it up, a matching red top showcasing cleavage and beauty marks on your chest and all the things that are proving to drive him fucking crazy upon seeing you every day.

it’s taking everything in him to control the growing ache in his shorts, your eyes looking at him so coyly and attentively that you’re ignoring the college boy gawking at you right in front of him.

there’s a certain sort of twisted pride in his chest, you giving him attention and seemingly reciprocating his interest, when there’s someone younger right there for you.

younger and unmarried and more suitable for you. someone you can actually be with where it wouldn’t be considered dirty or wrong or secretive; but maybe that’s why you’re both drawn to it in the first place.

that, and because you’re both really hot.

“he’s literally hot, y/n! why don’t you like him?” eunbi whines to you, the two of you sitting across from one another in the hot tub outside.

the december air is crisp but feels nice comapred to the steaming water you’re gratefully submerged in. anything to take you away from mr. park shirtless and wet in the pool right now.

“i do like him, bi,” you mutter, trying your best to convince her and now seem suspicious.

“okay, yeah, as a person but who cares about that!” she whines, flopping her hands dramatically in the water. “you don’t want him to rail you.”

“eunbi!” you squeak, splashing in her direction as a warm, embarrassed blush rises to your cheeks.

“i’m serious y/n. you’ve never been railed before and danny’s such a good option. he’s hot and he’s sweet and he’s so pathetically into you, it’s a little sick.”

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, shooting her a look that screams can we please not talk about this because you don’t know how much i actually wanna be railed by your father so let’s stop this discussion.

but she only rolls her eyes, moving herself closer to you so she can tug at your arm annoyingly.

“is he just not your type?” she questions, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion for a few moments before utter shock crosses her face.

“wait, what is your type? it’s... men, right? have i been hooking you up with the wrong gender this whole time?” she asks in disbelief, “could we have been hooking up this whole time?”

you press your lips together so you don’t burst out laughing, dryly replying “yes, eunbi, i’m into men.”

but the more you think about it, the more you think maybe you don’t have a type.

“and i’ve... never really thought about it before, to be honest. i just know i’m not into like... frat guys or whatever.”

because any party you’d been to, any douchey college guy wearing a backwards hat or cut off shirt, you had never been more disinterested. you couldn’t ever picture yourself falling for someone like that, romantically or sexually.

the one time you remember thinking someone was hot was when you took film and lit with your 31-year-old professor.

“so older guys?” eunbi concludes after hearing that, a smirk on her face as she raises her eyebrows playfully. “we gotta scope out some golf courses or retirement homes?”

“please,” you scoff, a giggle leaving her mouth as she throws her head back gleefully.

“okay, really though, i’ll tell danny you’re not interested and to stop trying so hard if you’re really not interested.”

but maybe danny as a distraction will be good.

will make you see that, perhaps, someone single and your own age and not your best friend’s father will be good thing for you to explore.

so you shrug lightheartedly, the smirk on your face causing eunbi to let out a low “oooh shit.”

you look over at her and your smile only widens when she knocks your shoulder, saying that you’re looking to be a play girl and drain a rich, lovesick man of some christmas presents.

“yeah, right! why drain a rich man when i can drain my best friend,” you tease, looking around her yard and still in astonishment that this is really her life. “i mean, two pools? is that really necessary?”

“three actually. there’s one behind the guest house on the other side. a small one. very humble.”

“oh, a small one, okay. great.”

she lets out another giggle, the two of you talking over plans for new years eve.

you might go up to jiwoon’s parents house in the mountains for the weekend, spend the time drinking with the small group of friends you’ve come to genuinely like over these past few weeks.

“it’s only two hours away so it won’t be that bad either,” she says, getting up to shake the hot water off her arms. “i’ll be right back, i have to pee.”

you nod your head, grateful she didn’t piss in the pool and allowing yourself to sit there, eyes closed, body relaxed, in the silence.

you can hear the faint screams of the boys from the indoor pool area and the swish of the hot tub filter, peeking open your eyes when, suddenly, you think you hear a boom of thunder in the distance.

you watch the sky darkening and clouds coming in, signaling a storm is coming in soon and quick. a sigh leaves your mouth, enjoying your last few moments of peace before finally standing in the hot tub.

the crisp winter air blows and sends goosebumps up your arms, a shiver running through your body as you attempt to splash some hot water on your upper body.

you don’t know how you know someone’s watching you but you do, some sort of strange intuition within you looking up to see none other than mr. park standing a few feet away from the hot tub.

his dark hair is wet and hanging in his face, swimming trunks soaked and his exposed chest still dripping chlorine water.

you press your lips together as your eyes roam his chest, a hint of abs on his lean stomach that causes a small, strangled groan to leave your mouth - you will never understand how this man is pushing 40.

but the same way you’re looking at him, he’s looking at you.

water covering your body, currently hunched over trying to warm the rest of your body; but it’s when you stand he really starts to gawk, your figure standing full and tall and giving him a perfect view of your hardening nipples from the cold crisp air.

you can see the lust in his eyes the same way you know he can and you’re about to do something to just make him crack. mistakingly untie your bottoms, catching them at the last second so he thinks he’s about to get a peak.

or undo the back of your top and pout at him, ask him to please tie it back for you because it’s way too hard to reach behind and do it yourself.

or maybe you’ll just drop to your knees right there, try to see if there’s any hint of a bulge in his swimming trunk bottoms and-

his body is gone just as fast as he arrived, confusion covering your face before you shake your head of your perverted thoughts - dropping to your knees when his daughter and wife are right here, what the fuck is wrong with you today?

you blame eunbi, all her talk about getting railed when you’ve been wanting to jump her father’s bones.

you carefully make your way out of the hot tub, not wanting to eat shit and scarp your leg on the concrete.

it feels like you’re about to freeze in the cold, another shiver wracking your body before you turn to stick your cold, goosebump-ridden arms back in the hot tub. it warms you for just a few seconds, a low, satisfied hum leaving your mouth before you hear footsteps coming up from behind you.

something in you tells you it’s him again.

whether it be the way your body heats up and feels prickly, the obvious feeling of eyes burning into your exposed back causing you to remain still and oblivious.

but you can longer remain oblivious a few seconds later, when a tall body is just a few inches away from completely pressing against you.

“you forgot a towel,” is all he says, placing it on the wet rim of the hot tub.

when he leans forward to place the white towel down, he’s careful and meticulous with his movements. brushing up against you every so slightly and carefully that you can feel his hard bulge on your ass for a few seconds too long.

at first you think you’re crazy, feeling what you were trying to envision in your head, but then you absolutely know it there’s.

you can feel the wetness from his bathing suit on your legs, his cock right there resting on the thin, red fabric of your bikini bottoms and if you were as weak as you felt inside, if he stayed there just a little bit longer, a moan would’ve absolutely left your mouth.

if you pushed back just a little to feel more of his cock on you, grind your ass his hardness just enough to hear him let out a low groan or maybe curse a little.

but he moves away, almost like he knew the perfect amount of time before that happened and almost like he did it by accident - but when you turn around and see the look in his eyes, you know it wasn’t.

the same way he can see a palpable desire and surprise and tension in your gaze, causing him to suppress a growing smirk. it makes you wanna tease him back in whatever way you can but you know that eunbi’s due back from the bathroom at any moment.

so you only cock your head to the side, lick over your lower lip carefully as you grasp the towel in your hands gently.

“thank you, mr. park,” you say, your voice as airy and sweet as you can possibly make it without sounding like an idiot.

“you’re welcome, y/n,” he says, taking a few steps back as his eyes lock on you. he stays there for a few moments until he hears the door to the pool house open.

you watch his lustful, dark expression change right then and there, a towel wrapping around his lower body and his face stretching into a happy, father-approved look.

“so you’re good with anything for dinner, y/n?” he asks, his voice loud and clear enough for his approaching daughter to hear. “i know you mentioned you were picky.”

“let’s get pizza!” eunbi screeches through the air, telling seonghwa that everyone’s staying over and they’ll need at least four boxes.

but you can’t even think about pizza right now, not when this moment right here is solidifying the crazy thought in your head that your best friend’s dad wants you just as much as you want him.

you called him out later that night around one a.m., after eunbi and jiwoon were the last to pass out to your scary movie marathon.

the others were sprawled out on the basement floor, an intricate array of blankets and pillows on the floor that you attempted to weave through, both, skillfully and quietly.

there was a dryness in your throat that could only be settled by a cold glass of water, making your way through the house quietly and praying you don’t run into mrs. park.

she’s been just as passive aggressive as she usually is in front of people so you could never imagine being alone with her. wondering what the hell she’d say to you without seonghwa and eunbi as buffers.

you were relieved when the lights were off in the kitchen, padding your way to the fridge to take out a bottle of water. you twist and turn the cap off to gulp down the cold liquid in the refrigerator light, a quiet gasp leaving you as your thirst is quenched.

you briefly consider going up to eunbi’s room to sleep tonight, not sure how you feel about being squished in with eunbi and jiwoon cuddling on the couch, when the light suddenly flicks off.

it causes you to freeze and halt all thoughts, fear running through you for all three seconds before you see seonghwa’s tall, familiar figure pass you. you watch him carefully in the dim light of the fridge, his shirtless chest yet again right in front of your face.

leaned back against the counter across from you, giving you a perfect view of his toned chest and gray sweatpants.

“midnight snack?” he asks, the smirk on his face almost causing you to roll your eyes.

instead, your lips quirk into a small smile. raising your water bottle by your head and shaking it, the water swishing in your pounding ears.

“just water,” you respond quietly, matching his low tone. “i hope that’s okay.”

“that you took water? of course, y/n,” he says, amusement in his gaze as he looks you over.

you’re freshly showered and in a pair of pajamas, matching pink sets that eunbi got you for christmas one year - he remembers because he was with her when she bought it.

a soft smile crosses your face, your back getting cold from the open fridge but not daring to move a muscle. not with him looking at you the way he is and with his body just a few feet away from you.

a silence lingers in the kitchen, you not sure why he’s looking at you and him waiting to see if you say something, before he bites the inside of his cheek.

“i wanted to say sorry about before.”

your eyebrow quirks up, interest so clearly peaked as you cock your head to the side.

“what do you mean?”

a smirk crosses his face as he watches you play dumb, head cocked and eyes wide and everything about you with such mock innocence, he thinks that’s what’s driving him the most crazy.

that you do this shit and say certain things with almost complete unawareness and innocence, if it weren’t for the hidden look of desire and teasing in your eyes.

“you know,” is all he says, his voice dipping and eyes twinging darker, it makes your lower stomach swoop.

a part of is positive, even if you ask, he’s not gonna say it aloud.

he’s not gonna say or acknowledge any of this aloud and make you guys play this game until you leave in a few weeks.

and then when you leave, unsure about your next prospects of college or education or even living arrangements, who knows if you’re ever gonna see him again.

so you only hum lowly, closing the fridge behind you and leaving you both in darkness. the only source of light is from the moon outside, lighting up half the kitchen from the large bay window.

it leaves you both incredibly exposed, anyone from the outside able to see the two seemingly innocent bodies standing toe to toe with each other; but they don’t see the lustful looks and eyes full of desire, both of you so entrapped by the other, it’s obvious with the tension in the air.

“oh, well, then... it’s okay, mr. park,” you say with a smile, taking a step back as your eyes roam his chest one last time. “i didn’t mind.”

you’re about to say goodnight when you see his arm reach out, shocked but oh, so ready ready to give into your desire and feel your body crash against his or your lips connect finally.

moan into his mouth and feel more of his hardness against you - but he only takes the water from your hand, presses his mouth against the plastic rim and swigs down a big gulp.

you watch with wide eyes as his adam’s apple bobs in the moonlight, head tipped back and body perched calmly on the counter as he takes a swig of your water bottle, spit exchanged and his mouth right where yours was.

he pulls back with an unreadable expression, licking the excess water from his lips before simply closing the cap, holding out the bottle and smiling at you with the most wise-ass smirk you’ve ever seen, you’re not sure how you’re ever gonna one up this man.

"sweet dreams, y/n.”

strike 3:

your new years weekend get away turned into an extended stay that consisted of sleeping on a lumpy air mattress, five extra guests and so much alcohol, you’re positive you’re still hungover three days later.

“it wasn’t that... we only did a... i mean it wasn’t like we were....” eunbi says, the two of you laying on her bed nursing headaches and body aches to the severest degree.

“okay, it was pretty bad. we were kind of rowdy and out of control.”

“you don’t say?” you grumble, never one to black out and get that shit faced and then doing it nearly every night - maybe to deal with danny’s pathetic soft looks or whispered sweet nothings to you.

“nothing is working either. not advil or water or greasy food. we might’ve fucked ourselves for life, bi.”

but if there’s one thing that always helped for eunbi, it was a nice, long bath. steaming hot water that burned her skin and the prettiest bath bombs to make the entire bathroom smell of strawberries and cream.

so even though you didn’t want to, nothing more comfortable than eunbi’s king size bed and warm, fluffy comforter, you allowed the girl to drag you to the bathroom down the hall to set up ‘your last resort, hangover paradise.’

it consisted of every type of bath bomb and lotion and bubble bath the luxurious could dream of, sending her out immediately when you saw her sneaking in with a glass of champagne.

“are you crazy?” you ask, dipping your toe in the water to test the temperature. “that’s what started this disaster.”

“fine, more for me!” she squeals happily, turning down the lights and pressing the bluetooth button for your phone’s music. “enjoy. i’ll see you in an hour, completely hangover free.”

“we’ll see about that,” you grumble, your words falling on deaf ears as she locks and closes the door to makes her way back to her ensuite.

and as much as you wanna give eunbi shit for her pompous tactics and techniques for everything in life, you have to say that this is certainly helping.

soaking in the steaming hot water, with cucumbers on your eyes and quiet music playing through the ceiling speakers. the jets in the tub also added another layer of relaxation to it, healing your sore muscles from days of waking up on a hard, wooden floor.

the mirrors were steamed and the room was boiling by the time you got out, stepping on the fuzzy bath mat and drying yourself off with a towel. you had tried not to get your hair wet but it proved useless, your relaxed body sinking further and further down until nearly your whole head was wet.

you stretch your arms above your head as you let out a content groan, feeling the best you’ve felt in three days and ready to take a nap.

but it’s at that moment, looking around the large steaming bathroom, that you realized you didn’t bring a change of clothes in. meaning you’ll know have to walk done the hall and into eunbi’s room in just a towel.

it’s fairly late, almost 11:30, so you’re hoping that her parents are in their rooms and fast asleep by now.

you peak your head out, feeling like a spy in a cheesy action movie as you look up and down the hall. you turn off the light once the coast is clear, walking quietly but quickly down to eunbi’s room - or wing, as it could be considered

you’re almost out of the gate, just a few more steps until you round the corner down eunbi’s hallway, when seonghwa’s tall figure is coming right up the stairs.

his head is down as he looks at his phone, still in his dress shirt and tie from his long day at work. you noticed that after the holidays, he’s been around the house less - working from home when he can but also needing to go into the office more often than not.

he’s at the top of the stairs when he finally notices your figure watching him, wrapped in a towel with a flush on your cheeks and your wet hair dripping on the floor.

it seems to be the thing to break him right now, not able to tear his eyes away or think of any fun, flirty comments to keep you from suppressing the need to roll your eyes.

because his days have been long and stressful and the only thing he needs right now is to just get off - and then there you are like something his prayers have answered, standing there quiet and awestruck at the sight of his loose tie and messy black hair he’s been running his hands through all day.

“h-hi, mr. park,” your quiet voice says, sweet and soft-spoken and utterly apologetic, like you’re embarrassed to be caught in just your towel - and he supposes that would make sense, to feel embarrassed about getting caught like this your friend’s father.

but he can’t find it in himself to care right now, two seconds away from dragging you down to his office so he can finally fuck you over his desk - but he knows that would be the worst decision in the world, for countless reasons.

“hi, y/n,” he grumbles back just as low, leant against the railing with a voice that sounds defeated and gruff.

“are you okay?” you ask, something about his voice and demeanor off.

he has to hold back a strangled laugh, his lips quirking up before he bites down on his lip.

“i’m... i’m fine, thanks. work’s just busy,” he says, a certain part of his chest warming at the fact you even asked - he knows his wife won’t when he walks in their bedroom in a few minutes.

“oh, okay,” you respond, twirling with the end of your towel nervously. “well... i’m sorry to hear that.”

he allows himself to let out a chuckle this time, shaking his head as he looks over your bare, wet face; you’re too pretty for your own good, he’s not even sure you realize just how pretty you are.

just how much he really wants you and just how much he’s coming to like seeing you in his house everyday.

“it’s alright, that’s why you gotta do something you love, right?” he quips, his long fingers up to recreate a camera, pressing down as if to snap a photo.

it cause you to let out a soft, genuine giggle, nodding your head and easing the slight embarrassment of him catching you in a towel.

“right,” you say with a smile, shy smiles and gazes shared until you finally look away in fear of your cheeks warming again.

but it doesn’t stop him from admiring the view of you, your bare face and exposed chest before the towel covers up all the parts he wants to so desperately explore.

he pictures dropping your towel and hearing it fall to the floor with a plop, take in the sight of your perky boobs and hard nipples in the air.

drop his mouth just a little bit to your neck, pressing small kisses against your skin as his fingers knead your nipples, all the quiet moans and breaths to make sure you two don’t get caught shooting right to his cock.

he probably wouldn’t be able to control himself, sliding a finger into you right then and there in the middle of the hallway, pressing your back against the wall to have you trapped against his larger body.

he’d pump his finger in and out of you slowly and tauntingly, hearing how wet you are and feeling how tight you are. it’d be similiar to how this past month has just been both of you taunting and teasing and beating around the bush, occasionally letting his fingers curl to his your g-spot or graze your sensitive clit.

and then he’d drop to his knees to taste you. make sure he sucks and licks and takes your clit in his warm mouth that you’re-

“i should get back to eunbi,” you finally say, breaking the silence and ripping him from his dirty, hidden fantasies. you can’t take the lust and desire in his eyes that you see when he looks at you, an painful ache building between your legs more and more.

“goodnight, mr. park.”

you nearly run into eunbi’s room and slam the door had you not seen her sleeping form, passed out right there in the middle of her bed wearing a baby pink robe.

you look beside her to see an extra one laid out, a silky lilac one that causes a small smile to cross your face.

you’ve never felt material like this on your skin, basking in the feeling of the smooth, silky material as you clean up her room quietly - both to tidy up and distract you from the ache in your legs and last encounter with her father.

for eunbi growing up with housekeepers and nannies her whole life, it always surprised you how clean and tidy your roommate was; the sink was never full of dishes and you alternated vacuuming the living room carpet.

but it’s obvious all of that is a facade because since the moment she got home, her messy ways have shown through - you find it endearing, though, and it’s all very eunbi: a homey, lived in mess of luxurious items and articles of clothing worth more than your childhood home.

the girl in question had moved to the right side in her sleep as you cleaned, a quiet chuckle leaving your mouth. you look to see both your water bottles are empty, deciding on the brave decision to go downstairs to grab two new ones.

the last time you’d done that, you thought for sure mr. park was gonna jump your bones - and you know you were gonna let him.

your mind is littered with memories of that night as you make your way through the dark house of twists and turns, carefully going down the stairs as you walk toward the kitchen.

there’s a room with beautiful double doors on your left, a room you’ve walked past hundreds of times throughout your stay here. eunbi told you it was her dad’s first floor office, where he usually worked and had his meetings from home.

the first thing you notice from down the hall is that the door is slightly cracked open, a peak in from the dimly lit kitchen showcasing some fancy decor of a globe.

as you make your way closer and closer, your ears are met with a quiet, strangled groan that causes you to stop in your tracks; your mind begins to race with a million different scenarios of what you could be walking past right now.

your first thought is that you’re about to see mr. and mrs. park in a very compromising position over his desk - and, as sick as it sounds, as delusional and crazy and absurd as it sounds, that prospect makes your stomach sink and twist painfully.

but that would be normal, you suppose; they’re a fucking married couple after all and seonghwa had seemed stressed from work. obviously he was gonna ask his wife to help calm him down and relax him.

get all of his stress out in the form of-

you shake your head before you can even think about it, forcing your feet to move past the office doors.

and it’s like you can’t even stop yourself from peeking in, confirming to see if your thoughts are correct and you’re about to be gutted, when you take in the sight before you.

seonghwa still in his loose tie and white dress shirt, pants around his ankles and his head thrown back in his office chair as his own hand jerks his cock off.

everything about it is dirty and wrong and you know you shouldn’t be looking in but you can’t stop.

you can’t stop watching the way his hand works around his cock expertly, long and thick and so fucking nice it nearly makes you drool. the thought of you on your knees before him, taking him in your mouth and licking and sucking around the tip, making you bite back a moan.

you can’t stop your eyes from looking at his face, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut with his neck on display - perfect for you to bite and give hickies, if you were on top straddling him.

you can’t stop the painful ache and wetness seeping in your thong as you watch him get off, his groans and grunts and heavy breaths making you wanna whine out in arousal.

and it’s that suppression right there, getting so worked up and horny over the sight of your peeping tina activities, that cause you to pull yourself away.

because as much as you don’t want to and as much as you wanna help him, you can’t.

you can only scramble into the kitchen and get water as fast and quiet as humanly possible, scurrying past the office and up the stairs with the stealthiness of a lion.

you can only lay in bed with the thoughts of your roommate’s father and the noises he makes, the sight of his cock and the hand movements replaying over and over in your mind.

and you realize that night, with only a few more days until you both have to leave for the spring semester, you can only hope to never see mr. park again.

let this flirtation and fascination and utterly screwed up infatuation with your roommate’s dad be nothing but a dirty memory you’ll keep to yourself for the rest of your life.

because if it’s not, if you have to see him again and have him in your daily life again, you won’t be able to hold yourself back.

your lust will turn deeper and you’ll find yourself in a much bigger issue than damp underwear and secret, forbidden moments with mr. park seonghwa.

you should’ve known with only two days left of your stay that eunbi was gonna let the news slip.

you were at least grateful for the fact that mrs. park had a charity ball with her clan of “botox getting, bitchy sounding gold diggers who need to desperately get laid,” successfully riding her of your last friday night dinner.

“so you girls don’t want a new apartment then?” seonghwa asked, glass of wine in his hand as he looks at the two of you questioningly. “that building’s looking for a new owner, eunbi, i think it’d be perfect for you both.”

“dad don’t be ridiculous, we can’t own the building!” eunbi says, swatting her dad playfully as she shovels a piece of food in her mouth. she’s casual and comfortable without her mom’s prying eyes and biting tone, her foot resting on the white fabric beneath her.

“and besides, i might be alone in there soon. we still don’t know if y/n is gonna be starting her-”

you kick the girl under the table roughly, her face pulling into a wince as a cry leaves her mouth.

“ow, y/n! what the he-”

but it’s upon seeing your white face and annoyed expression that she realizes what she said, her mouth falling open and silent as she looks at you apologetically.

“oh shit...”

you can only shoot her a pained, sarcastic smile, daringly looking at seonghwa who’s watching the two of you with a curious expression.

“what do you mean?”

silence hangs in the air, you and eunbi sharing side eyes and dejected looks with her dad before he cocks an eyebrow at the both of you.

“girls... what do you mean?” he asks, his voice deeper and more serious, taking on a dad-like tone eunbi isn’t used to hearing from her relaxed, playful father.

and that’s when, before eunbi can open her big mouth any further, you calmly and regretfully explain the situation with your scholarship.

how you got an e-mail a few months ago about alternate funding for the art department and that you were one of the many students who, while keeping up your end of requirements, could not be awarded money.

“it’s awful that they can do that,” seonghwa says, his eyes full of the same sympathy and outrage eunbi’s held - except he knows that this happens all the time. that it’s unfair and sick and a big ploy in the education system that needs incredible reform.

especially when it hurts students like you.

“yeah but it is what it is,” you say, trying your hardest to steer the conversation to literally anything but this (in fear that you’ll scream or start crying or have yet another anxiety attack).

“i can just finish up in the fall, it’s no big deal,” you lie through our teeth, a sad smile on your face as you look at eunbi. “i’m just sorry it messes up our combined graduation party.”

a frown crosses eunbi’s face as she smacks you in the arm, pulling you closer to her just so she could cuddle herself into your arm.

“i will wait for you,” she proclaims dramatically, a pout on her lips and starry-eyed look in her gaze. “i will wait as long as i have to. if they delay it any further, father, you will simply have to sue the school.”

“father, huh?” seonghwa hums lowly, his lips quirking into a smirk.

father is the term eunbi uses when she wants to use him and his money, whether it be blackmailing unfair teachers or shitty students or calling for him when her and her mom are fighting.

“yes, father,” she says, looking to you with a sweet, apologetic smile on her face.

“i’m serious, y/n. we got your back,” she quips with a wink, a pained smile on your face that she knows means you can’t wait to let her have it when you two are alone.

“you had one job, eunbi, and you were doing so good,” you say in her room later that night, pacing back and forth as she sits on her bed like a scolded child. “literally two nights left and you let it slip out!”

“i’m sorry, okay!” she whines for the ninth time, a pout on her face as she plays with fingers; you wanna roll your eyes seeing it, knowing for a fact that’s something she does when she’s in trouble with jiwoon.

“i didn’t mean to, it just slipped out!” she begins to defend, “and it was only my dad! he wouldn’t dare say a bad word about you, y/n, he loves you.”

you ignore the twinge in your chest when you hear her say those words, feeling a tad guilty at the bodily reaction you have about her own father. how much you’re hiding from her and that you have these suppressed feelings and secret moments in the first place.

“loves me or not, bad word or not, it’s still embarrassing, eunbi,” you say, a frown on your lips as you start to hear the situation aloud. 

“i still can’t pay for my tuition and have to wait almost a whole year to take a degree in fucking photography. like how embarrassing is that, all of this just for me never find a job and live in a box.”

you’ve only seen a flash of anger on eunbi’s face a few times in your life, the incident with the dorm girls and her dad and when a sorority girl tried to kiss jiwoon at the bar.

and you see it right now, her small but mighty frame jumping off the bed and lunging toward you quickly.

“are you kidding me!” she squeals, smacking you in the arm and pushing you down on the bed.

“what the hell do you mean a degree in fucking photography? or living in a box? you’re gonna be the best photographer in the world and shoot every event in my life and charge me quadruple the amount!”

a smile pulls at your lips as you hear her go on and on, hype you up and build up your confidence and tell you to never talk that way about yourself again. how there’s nothing embarrassing about not being able to afford thousands of dollars when you were alerted about the expense on such short notice.

“okay, okay, i know that,” you eventually give in, letting out a sigh as you flop down on her bed. “it’s just.... stressful. i can’t move back home but i also need to get like, a real job. a job that’s gonna pay well so i can save up as much as possible.”

“and we’ll find you that when we get back,” she says, assuring with a confident look in her eye and her hands in yours. “i can promise you, with or without my father’s connections, we’re getting you a job.”

her words prove to reassure you for the remainder of the night, when, after she kisses your ass a little more, asks if she can go to jiwoon’s for a little.

you spent that time in her room looking at nearby job offerings and building up your resume and cover letters, working well into the night hours with a text from jiwoon that she fell asleep and will be back in the morning.

you stretch your arms above your head with a quiet groan, noting it’s almost one o’clock and you’re fucking parched yet again.

it’s no surprise to you when the lights in the kitchen are on, dimly light and no noise around as you pad your way to the fridge.

you almost expect the footsteps that come in a few moments later, when you take a sip from your water and close the fridge without hesitation.

“have you told your parents about tuition?”

you’re confused by the statement that leaves seonghwa’s mouth, brows pulled together and a sinking feeling in your stomach at this conversation again - because as if tuition wasn’t enough, he just had to bring up your parents.

but you don’t wanna beat around the bush any longer; you two seem to do that enough.

“me and my parents don’t talk,” you say, straight forward and quiet as you look right at him.

it’s the first time he sees you look a little broken and defeated, a certain kind of sadness shining behind your eyes that makes him wanna pull him into you. it feels like a protective instinct he’s used to, caring for the people in his life and not wanting to see them struggle.

“they wouldn’t help me anyway.”

this protective instinct feels a little different in this moment, something else tugging in his chest that he hasn’t felt in a very long time - not until he started seeing you more.

“but it’d be a shame if you didn’t finish, y/n. you got so far and you’ve done so well for yourself.”

you smile a little at the praise, tongue rolling over your lips in a way he certainly doesn’t miss - but this moment isn’t about that. it’s not something he cares even a little bit about right now.

“thank you, mr. park, but i am gonna finish,” you say with finality, the confident and sure tone making a strange sort of pride swell inside of him.

“i just have to save up money and i’ll start in the fall. it’s really not that big of a deal,” you tell him with a smile, taking a few steps back so you don’t feel too crowded by him.

“eunbi’s gonna help me look for jobs when i get back,” you say, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as you look at him. “a big girl job. something real and hard, that’s gonna make me super stressed and agitated.”

so much so that i have to get off at the thought of you.

a deep chuckle bubbles out of him that you match with ease, the two of you sharing small smiles and quiet giggles in the middle of this spotless, white kitchen.

“can’t do what you love quite yet, i guess,” seonghwa says, his eyes roaming your face so slowly and carefully, it makes you a tad bit nervous.

you hadn’t realized how natural and easy this conversation was between you two, like you were talking to someone you’d known your whole life opposed to someone you’ve barely known for four years.

his hand itches to reach up and touch your hair, tuck the soft, silky looking strand behind your ear and watch your cheeks heat up when your skin touches; but instead, he smiles down at you, inching closer until he’s just looming over you and staring down at you with a soft, undetectable look in his eye.

“but it’ll be worth it in the end, i think. it’s just gonna... take some time.”

you lick over our lips, throat and mouth suddenly so incredibly dry, as you nod your head.

“yeah, i think so, too,” you say, your lips smushing together nervously before you open your mouth to speak again - this could be one of the last times you’re alone with him.

“thank you for letting me stay with you guys, mr. park. it’s been... really nice spending time with people for the holidays.”

he feels his heart twinge in his chest again, his eyes falling down to your lips and swearing he’s never wanted to kiss someone so bad in his life.  

“of course, y/n, it’s been a pleasure,” he says, a smile quirking at his lips with a hint of something you just can’t quite make out. “maybe we’ll see each other again soon.”

it was five days before classes started that you got the confirmation e-mail - a message confirming your tuition for the spring semester was paid in full and your current balance was $0.

you had to look over the message for three whole hours making sure you had read the e-mail correctly, even going as far to call the bursar office to make sure they had the correct address.

but they had confirmed with surety that your balance was paid off, urging you to quickly sign up for the classes you need before the day was over.

“okay, you will never believe what interview i was able to score for you,” eunbi says the moment she walks in the apartment, shopping bags up her arm and gucci sunglasses perched atop her head.

“i’ll admit, the vibe was a little off with the coworkers but i think it’d be a great opportunity to-” her eyes catch your laptop screen on the school website, a list of classes and times on your screen that causes her eyes to widen.

“oh?” she squeals, running over and throwing herself down on the couch beside you. “what the heck are you doing? are you... did you...?”

the lie came way too quick and easy to you, excitedly blabbering out that there was a change in the system and your scholarship was approved - “i think they felt bad that i was a graduating senior,” you said, eunbi’s face pulled into the happiest smile you’ve ever seen.

she clapped and danced and bounced around in excitement, proclaiming you guys just had to go out and get drinks to celebrate the fact that your surprise party was back on.

but you could only sit there with your thoughts and suspicions and this overwhelming feeling deep within your stomach that, while eunbi definitely doesn’t know, her father might’ve just paid your college tuition in full.

(part 2)

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @baekhvuns @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo @nlost21 @hyunjeansuniverse @cherryeonii @songsoomin @reeateez @biaswreckingfics @yunhoiseyecandy @sophrosyneeeee @uglychildd @happycandynoelle @seolarjk @liqhtiny @maedesculpaeusoubi @revehosh @svt-mangos @hcwurld @ateezappreciation @sanisms​ @khjssss​ @yixing-jaehyun​ @yeosangs-left-ass-cheek​

couldn’t tag: @ateez-after-dark @arkive78 

[unhinged-summer-fun]

flicker

(Max Phillips x F!Reader) | 22+

Rating: Mature (no smut, but foulmouthed language)

Word Count: 7817 (it wouldn’t let me stop writing)

Summary: You’re Max’s personal assistant. He needs you for a lot of things. Wants you for more.

Warnings: pining, nonchalant mentions of murder, etc., reader gets sick for a few paragraphs but not graphically. max is a perv. <3

A/N: this is my first reader insert fic!! Hope ya like it. Also, read/kudos on AO3.

“No, mom, I’m not an indentured servant to my boss. I’m just interested in doing a good job and building my career!” You shut the door to the car with one hip and scowl at the dusty mark left behind on your skirt. Damn it. “Quit trying to talk me out of a decision I made over two months ago!”

Your mother’s tirade of a response spills out into the air, as your face-grip on your phone fails and the device clicks to the speakerphone. “—You don’t need to serve another person to feel a sense of worth, honeybun.” You know arguing with the nickname would only make things worse.

“Everyone works for someone, mom. And I work for—”

“Need a hand with that?” Speak of the devil.

Your mom continues to prattle on until you give a clipped “gotta go” and hang up. You’re frozen in that moment, arms full of grocery bags and your purse and Max’ Saturday drink order. It’s his day off, but not yours, so you get to see him dressed down, comfortable. His broad shoulders are barely contained in a worn blue college tee shirt in a language you can’t read, and low-rise jeans that probably cost more than your monthly rent payment. The sudden glint of his shiny white teeth breaks you from your reverie.

“No, sir, I’ve got it. Perhaps the door, though?”

“Sure thing, honeybun.” A sudden flood of conflicting emotions replaces a flush of instinctual irritation. Max was a pervert at the best of times, and a walking HR disaster every morning he came in. Hearing that long-hated pet name on the same lips that called you sweet thing and sugartits like they were your name should have made you feel cool indifference, but this was suddenly more personal than all that. This was what your mother called you when she wanted to butter you up to bad news.

So really, you should have watched your step a little better.

When you fall, there’s half a second of breathtaking panic, the tip of your shoe having hit a white concrete step and sending you crashing down like a battle-axe. The latter half of that second is weightless wonder, a sudden presence of muscular arms pulling you from your rendezvous with the ground and steadying you at the next step. Max had been nearly at the front door when you’d taken your first step, but had used his supernatural vampire speed to come help you when you fell.

“Alright?” He asks, his breath just a little too soft for it to be genuine concern. You can feel the barest brush of his lips on the shell of your ear, and you wonder if it was just your imagination when he pulls back, as cool as he’d been just a moment ago. Seduction is half of what he does every workday. You shouldn’t be so affected by this. You nod, unsure if any words you might say would come out moaned and breathless. Max seems to pick up on your affect with a grin made of thick molasses: slow and dark and so sweet it makes you sick to see it so close. Luckily, the next few minutes pass in a blur, setting groceries and coffee down on the kitchen island and Max’ coffee table, respectively.

As his personal assistant, your duties aren’t tied to that of the company he works for. If he needed an executive assistant, he’d have one Turned and on payroll. But no. He wanted someone to handle the tedious parts of life he still had to deal with, though his life had ended years ago. That meant getting him groceries, driving his car to get detailed, making personal appointments and sending thank-you notes, picking up and sending out dry cleaning, meeting his weed guy, retrieving expensive coffee from the vamp café in downtown, for starters. Occasionally you had to incinerate a duffel bag of bloody belongings, but cognitive dissonance and extreme discretion had been skill requirements on the job posting.

There were downsides, but none of them were to do with his personality or attitude or undead status. Sometimes his vampire cohorts would try to enchant you, threaten to kill or turn or drink from you, and whenever Max was around, he was sure to put an end to that. When he wasn’t around, a simple pair of bewitched silver earrings and a matching choker he’d bought you seemed to do the trick. You had no intentions of becoming a vampire, and Max had no intentions of turning you. There was only so much fake tan that could conceal his true nature, and there were many things you could do that he couldn’t.

“Nearly had to gut a guy for these, so you better enjoy them.” You hold up the last box of farmers’ market strawberries, ripe and red and tempting.

“Gimme,” he says, abandoning his drink and crowding your space to pluck the strawberries out of your hands. You frown at his back when he turns to wash them in the sink. Normally, Max is very good about letting you do your job free of his help. Grocery day had its own routine, but he seemed adamant about his hard-won fruit.

You put the rest of the food away, and toss the expired things out of the fridge. It had taken quite a bit of unimpressed eyebrow raises to get Max to use the plastic bins for his blood bags, but you’re pleased to see he’s using the system you’d set up for him. He’s reaching for a bowl when you turn around to fold the bags, and you glimpse a tan, smooth stomach. You know the ab-building pills and devices he sells are bullshit, but for a hysterical moment you think he’s the perfect poster boy for it.

“I can cut those up for you, if you’d like,” you offer. He locks eyes with you and— fuck. There’s that molasses grin again, like he knows all your secrets and then some.

“You know I like to use my teeth,” Max says in that low rasp you can’t help but shuddering at whenever you hear it. You know that he’s using his seduction voice, his come climb on my lap voice. Unfortunately, for the relationship you have with him, he can act however he wants, and you have to remain professional. That fact is made even more abundantly clear when he continues, “Honeybun.”

You force a smile over your scowl, which lights up his dark eyes with amusement. You’ll kick yourself for showing even that barest bit of annoyance. He was a salesman long before he was a vampire. Leverage is his second language.

“Is there anything you need me to handle before I start my rounds, Mr. Phillips?” You ask in a curt tone.

“You’ve got a bit of dirt, here,” he says, moving faster than you can track with your eyes. He’s on you, or close to it, and his hand rests heavily over where you’d bumped your dusty car with your hip. He truly misses nothing. His hand is warm, somehow. You don’t know how, and don’t really care how, but for a single moment, all the porn you’d cum to, all the fantasies which had filled your bored mind, they all surge to the forefront of your thoughts and catch your tongue. Max’ tongue, however, never stops. “Maybe you should take it off while you do your chores.”

“That won’t be necessary,” you say on reflex, your core throbbing, crying, would have punched you if it had the means, because you rest your fingers over his wrist and remove it from your hip. “Enjoy your snack, sir.”

“Not sure it’ll fill me,” Max says, mostly to himself, but you know his words are calculated and deliberate. Deliberate in that he wants to pull that blush to your cheeks. He wants to see your throat bob with a rough swallow. He wants to hear your heart pound, your pulse race. He wants to see you fight all of that in the name of professionalism. He wants, he wants, he wants. He’s not a cruel man, but he is an insufferable tease.

And you curse yourself every day for liking it.

You catch your breath at the far end of his house. The housekeeper wouldn’t keep her mouth shut when she’d seen the blood, so you were stuck with doing the grunt work. Max thankfully put a tarp out for when he knew he’d be messy and kept the massive orgies to company property. The routine once again calmed your nerves, and you found solace in the cradle of his belongings within minutes.

You hardly see him whenever you work in the house, partly because you snapped at him not to micromanage and partly because he was almost never there. Whenever he had days off, Max liked to get out of town and drive. To where, you don’t know, because you never asked. Some people just needed solitude, but in a big postmodern monstrosity like his house, loneliness echoed and reflected on oneself a hundred times louder than it started out.

He isn’t old enough to have lost touch with the life he lived before, but you know that having his family ice him out after learning of his affliction hurts him even now, seven years on. He still looks like most new grad students, if better slept, and with all his success in business you’re not surprised. With as mercurial and opinionated as your mother is, she’d probably do the same as Max’ family, despite the affection she lords over you.

You’d been in the house yesterday afternoon, so most of what you’d cleaned is still spotless. Max hadn‘t had anyone over for dinner, so there was no bleach cycle to run. You did, however, take your skirt off for a moment to rub at the dirt while in the laundry room, but you worked fast.

Not fast enough.

It seems like Max Phillips has an innate sense of finding women in states of undress, and you have barely three seconds of time between hearing his approaching voice and the turn of the handle on the laundry room door. He cuts off his own question - something about frozen mangos and a blender replacement - when he sees your flustered expression, hears the rabbit-quick thump of your pulse. “What’s this?” He says, the hint of another smirk on his face.

“Was there something you needed?” You ask, rushed and a little breathless.

He keeps his eyes on you, raking up and down your form. “No.” The smirk emerges. You prepare for some other smart statement, but it never comes.

Your knees shake once he leaves the doorway. “Fuck,” you whisper into your hands. Your mind is already supplying suggestions of what he’d look like if he actually saw you in just your blouse and panties, how the lick of desire would spark in his eyes, how he’d push his bottom lip out into a point when he was actually trying to hide a smile. How his fangs would grow just a little, helpless to hunger like a fledgling creature of the night.

The rest of your chores go quick, and after a quick last-check, you grab your purse. “I’ve finished for the day, Mr. Phillips. I’ll be uptown most of the evening, if you need anything else.”

“Great,” he says, following you to the door. He opens it for you, guiding you out with a small push of his hand against the small of your back. “Drive safe.”

“Thank you, sir. I will.” You can’t wait to put this weird day behind you and just get a drink to forget it. 

You make it all the way to the car before Max makes that impossible.

“Honeybun?” He asks, all fake nonchalance. “Your skirt is on backwards.”

##

You seriously, seriously consider faking your own death instead of getting up for work. If it weren’t for your boss having carte blanche access to your apartment and knowing what ‘dead’ actually looked like, you might have even gotten away with it. Still, the stupid sniffles make you reconsider a dirt nap. Max never seems to get sick, even when he eats really sick people. Perhaps he meant a different kind of sick.

Your head feels stuffed with cotton balls and your sinuses feel like water balloons. The comparison only seems to make more sense as you toss away another soggy tissue in disgust. You pull up your calendar, which is just Max’ calendar, and wince in the bright light. He’s meeting with other vamps for a social lunch, which, inexplicably, requires your presence. As if he knows you’re thinking about him, you get a text notification.

MP: Still on for our 1pm?

You’d seen what your name was in his phone, once. Considering he treats that thing like it’s a third hand, you aren’t worried about someone seeing him texting ‘Sugar Tits On Demand’ about his dry cleaning bill, but you’re still fairly annoyed with him about it. He hasn’t changed it. You expect he’d change it to something worse if you told him to. You sigh and check the clock. 10:30. You indulge in a moment of petty emotion, kicking your feet in a little tantrum and pouting. Why does the bed feel so comfortable now that you have to leave it?

You: Yes.

You can’t put any more effort into the message, which he notices. His response is almost instantaneous.

MP: What’s wrong? You don’t want me to drive you?

You’d expressed discomfort with being around so many other vampires, and having no personal means of escape, but that had been a few weeks ago. Obviously, your lack of a prompt response is enough to make him call you, his stupid fangy contact picture filling the screen. You groan once more at the ceiling and answer. “Yes, Mr. Phillips?” you ask, not even attempting to hide your state from him.

“You sound like you got hit by a truck. You go out drinking last night, honeybun?” He says after a long moment of silence.

You mute the phone to scream briefly into your pillow, before responding, “No, it’s just a cold. I can still go to lunch.”

“You do know that sick days are meant to be taken when you’re sick, right?”

“Don’t be a micromanager,” you scoff before freezing up. Did you just say that to your boss? “I—”

A bark of laughter screeches through your phone, and you hold the receiver out from your ear, wincing.

“Don’t be a manager, she says. No. You’re taking a sick day. Have fun~!”

“Mr. Phillips, you need me to go to this lunch with you, you were very intent on that!” you protest.

“I’ve got a whole afterlife to reschedule. You don’t.” It seems so simple a statement, so unquestioningly true, that it makes you startle. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, eyes staring straight ahead at the wall like it’d have the answers painted there. “See you tomorrow, honeybun.” Click.

“You bastard,” you whisper, before getting up for a hot shower.

Stubbornly, you fight sleep and rest while stuck at home, cleaning your apartment with the same intensity you’d clean Max’ house. Of course, you have none of the spectacular views of the valley, none of the modern amenities, no pool to relax at, so you just end up scowling at your dingy rug and adding to Mount Kleenex tissue by tissue. Your anger and exhaustion war against one another for hours, until you hear the door to your apartment unlock. Panic freezes in your veins for a heart-stopping moment before you remember the only other person who has a key is—

“Honeybun!”

Oh.

Max pokes his head through the door. “I’ve brought you human food.” The rest of his body follows, still in his work suit.

“Thanks for specifying,” you say with a withering glare. You can’t even feel embarrassed at being caught in your pajamas. You feel awful.

He sets down a brown paper bag, and due to your sickness, you can’t smell what he’d brought. You creep forward, but he waves you off. “Go sit. You should be resting. I may not have caught a cold in nearly a decade, but I still remember this part. Sit.”

You do as he says, reluctantly. As strange as it is to see him here, in your apartment, you are a little too fog-headed to have thought of getting yourself food. He comes over with a warm tub of wonton soup, humming and grinning to himself. The soup feels amazing against your chest, and you can almost smell it through the mess of your sinuses. “You didn’t have to do this,” you say weakly.

“No, I didn’t. Look how good of a boss I’m being.” He’s smug, of course, but this is something else. You just scoff and roll your eyes. What a ham. At least you get food out of it. Super.

To your continued surprise, he stays. He sits on your lone armchair like it’s a throne and doesn’t even put his feet up on the coffee table. Your exhaustion grows after finishing the soup, and you’d find it suspect if he hadn’t promised the soup was un-drugged, and he hadn’t used his command voice on you. “I’m sorry about the lunch, Max,” you say softly, putting your head on a throw pillow. The pout you’d indulged in earlier is clawing its way back onto your face.

His face doesn’t so much soften as it does flicker, the mask of smugness and haughtiness falling away for just a moment to reveal something soft and squishy and a little more human than either of you were expecting. The smirk is back on his face after that momentary lapse, but it seems hollow now. “Well, I’m sure you’re suffering enough for making me miss it, so just internalize that for me, wouldja?”

You shake your head and laugh, feeling sleep wrap her arms around you, pulling you from the conversation and any further thought on what that flicker meant. “Whatever you say, boss.”

He’s predictably gone when you wake up, the sun having gotten low in the sky. Disoriented, you float through your apartment, unsure of what you’re searching for until you find something out of the ordinary. It’s simple, more trash in the bin, a spoon in the sink, a picture nudged out of place on your bookshelf, but they stick in your throat a little. They’re signs of life, you realize. Signs that Max had left his mark on your home, had held that old picture of you at 12 and your fat tabby cat. He’d rubbed his thumb over your face, a soft smudge in the dust where you hadn’t cleaned earlier. You hold the picture softly, no longer feeling that sense of nostalgia and happy memories which came with seeing the picture. You instead see an oval smudge, half a fingerprint, and your expression.

You catch the flicker when the expression departs abruptly.

“Fuck.”

##

The next morning, you feel much better. It’s probably because of the near-lethal amounts of DayQuil you’d ingested, but you’re determined to get out of your apartment, and away from that smudged photo frame. You have a blood latte (which you’ve taken to calling blattes in the privacy of your own mind) in one hand, and a water bottle in the other, as you stalk through the cubicles toward the door marked Max Phillips, Sales Manager. The blinds are open, which had become a more frequent occurrence as soon as the employee uprisings had been quelled.

He doesn’t look up from his desk when you let yourself in, bent over a file and frowning at what he’s reading. You set his drink down on the coaster. “Anyone give you any trouble?” he asks, though he knows the answer. Vampires somehow hate the taste of DayQuil and avoid the recently-dosed population. Still, the seventeen-dollar blatte normally draws a few hungry growls from the sales floor.

��Not today.” Or at least, you hope so. The cold had moved from sinus pressure to ear pressure and fucked with your hearing a bit. Perhaps there was a rumble of a growl you just hadn’t heard. Max takes his drink and looks up at you.

“How are you feeling today?” Two inquiries about your state in five minutes. You must have taken too much DayQuil.

“I’m doing much better. I think you caught me on the upswing of whatever I had.” A lie, but Max was kind enough to not call you on it.

Wait. Asking how you are and not calling you on your bullshit? Something fishy was afoot, and it wasn’t sea-sirens.

“Good,” he says before sipping his drink. He groans. “Worth every damn penny I reimburse you for.”

“Glad to hear it,” you respond. “Have you gotten a reschedule for your lunch?”

“Jerome has moved it to a dinner, tonight.”

“Same attendees?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Well, I’ll be there.”

You wish you hadn’t said that. 

Brunello’s is one of three vampire-run restaurants in the city. The others are the café you visit most mornings, and a takeout place Max is banned from visiting. But Brunello’s isn’t on that tier at all. Grigor Brunello, a 350-year-old vampire from Long Island, knows that the appeal to becoming immortal lies in the ability to get really fucking dressed up for no reason. The whole restaurant is done up in heavy velvet curtains and polished candlesticks and bone china and pure gold cutlery, and the menu features dishes for the undead and the not-yet-dead. Grigor had caused quite a stir with his management style, though not the way Max had. He understood that finding solace in a world that sought to kill you and your vampire brethren meant making quite a few sacrifices. The older vampires don’t even try to charm their way into a human’s bloodstream these days. They usually like to bite first, and pay the bill later.

Grigor doesn’t tolerate that.

So that’s why you’re here, on Max’s arm like a leashed pet, though you know it’s really the other way around. If a vampire is mannered enough to get a human to agree to dinner, then we get a reservation. It’s like saying, “look how well-behaved I am, this human trusts me.” If that guest is killed or harmed, they banned the vamp responsible for all eternity from Brunello’s restaurant chain. We can’t have nice things if we don’t play nice, Max had explained. The first time you’d come to one of his meetings here, you’d fainted in Max’ car right before going in, but after, you were surprised. You hadn’t been able to pick out the humans from the non-humans until they started making jokes and telling stories of events a hundred years in the past.

You wonder, sometimes, if Grigor approves of Max’ business methods, or if they’d studied in Romania together. You can picture Max’ aghast face, at your suggestion that he socializes willingly with culinary arts majors. Also, the inevitable “that’s so offensive, just because I’m a vampire doesn’t mean I know every other vampire out there.”

Thoughts of the hypothetical type are shaken off as you step past the velvet rope to the inside of the restaurant. The splendor and the dim lighting both require a moment to adjust to, which Max expects with a slight pause in your footsteps. A maître d’ seems to materialize out of thin air, smiling in that same insufferable way you associate with vampires past their fledgling years. “Mr. Phillips, your table is this way. May I take the lady’s coat?”

“Thank you,” you say coolly, shrugging out of the thick shawl around your shoulders and handing it to the coat-check attendant. Max had coached you in the art of Acting Like You’re Made Of Money, and you swear you can feel the pride radiating off of him from your side.

Past the other tables of the supernatural and their human tickets, you’re led to a private room in back, where most of Max’ vampiric business meetings take place.

“Maxy!” a booming voice sounds suddenly, making you jump and a couple of forks clatter to plates around you. A gigantic man walks through the room with an almost palpable confidence and ease.

“Grigor,” Max says in greeting, going for a handshake and getting a hug instead. You watch with barely concealed amusement. Grigor sets Max down and lets him dust off his suit and put himself back together.

“It’s been too long! I heard you were supposed to be here yesterday for lunch! I served that duck dish you like.” Your face flames in embarrassment at the reminder that you’re the reason everything rescheduled.

“Had a conflict come up at work. Nothing serious, just needed all my attention.” You’re always impressed by how easily Max can pull off a lie of omission. He has little to no secrets from you, as keeping information from you makes your job harder and therefore, his life harder. So you got to see his delicate wordsmithing in action, a delight.

“I’m glad you’re here tonight. Jerome has requested quite the spread for your group.” Max takes your arm again, pretending to play escort despite you being able to choose to walk away, and he’d follow. You feel the tension in his bicep.

“Best not keep him waiting much longer than a day and a half,” you say pointedly, knowing you two are probably minutes from being late. Grigor turns his eyes on you.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. Make sure he behaves, will you?” He says with a wink. You give a nod and a smile, and he’s gone. Max somewhat deflates against your side, tension you hadn’t felt build now dissipating.

“Something wrong?” You ask once you’re out of the middle of the dining room, but not quite through the doors to the back.

“No, just. No.” Max shakes his head and takes an unneeded breath. He looks like he wants to say more, but changes his mind the last second, going for the door. How strange.

Jerome and his human husband are waiting at the small cocktail bar in the corner of the private room. Several other couples cluster around the room, and twelve place settings are laid at the grand table at the center of the room. Your entrance is met with ten pairs of eyes, a tense pause, and an approaching Jerome.

“Max,” the vampire says, greeting him with a handshake. This is more obviously familiar to your boss, and he shakes the hand comfortably. Jerome greets you by name as well, before taking your hand and laying a kiss across your knuckles. You’d been flustered and discomforted by the attention the first time you met, but at 98, you couldn’t fault Jerome for his habits. It suited the atmosphere, certainly.

“It’s nice to see you again,” you say politely, and catch a grin from Jerome. His husband comes up and greets you both as well, salt-and-pepper in his hair and love clear in his eyes.

Max seems a little on-edge, but you can’t place why. Perhaps he thinks you’re going to faint again. You small-talk for the both of you, leaving him to think about the business to be discussed soon.

Not all of Max’ business dealings were in miracle products and snake oil. Most of the immortal scene liked to ensure a healthy sense of community and growth. Vampires hadn’t warred for hundreds of years, and because of this modern mentality of civility through monstrosity, they thrived. Jerome is kind of the chapter head of the vampire clans in your state. He likes to check in and make sure things are being run well, and in line with a better future. Vampire businesses had voluntary non-compete clauses with one another, and a wide network of assistance. Jerome was even trying to set up a community college similar to the Romanian university Max had attended. Business dinners like this were full of doublespeak and agreements that were made and adjusted so quickly it flew over your head. In all fairness, your duties here were simply to exist and be alive, while Max did the legwork.

You could handle that.

They assigned seating at random, though there was always a human between two vampires, and vice versa. Though the vampire community wasn’t officially ‘out’ to humans, they encouraged socialization and diversity in opinion. Tonight, you sit between a beautiful artist visiting from New York whom you hadn’t met before, and a guidance counselor for a night school in the next town over. The artist introduced themself as Terra, and points out their human sitting serendipitously next to Max at the other end of the table. “Fox is my muse,” Terra says, swooning a little. You can’t help but enjoy the affectionate look they send the stoic man.

“Have you taken him to many dinners like this?” You ask interestedly.

“Oh yes, he’s just always like that. He’s so paranoid, since his divorce.”

“Oh?” the guidance counselor to your right says, leaning nearly on top of you to get closer to the gossip.

Dinner goes by quickly, a seven-course meal with wine pairings and blood served chilled in shot glasses between plates. Your own palate-cleanser is more wine. When things wrap up after dessert, you’re glad Max is driving.

“Perhaps the DayQuil wasn't the best thing to pair with the Bordeaux,” he says in your ear once you’re alone again.

“I’ll puke on you if you tease me right now,” you mumble, sniffling. A tissue is placed in your hand.

“Whatever you say, bunny.”

That’s new.

##

The goddamned air conditioner in your apartment is out. It had died at around six in the morning, right when the sun had risen, and by the time you were awake at seven, you were drenched in sweat and convinced you were dying. Even the tile in your bathroom didn’t seem to soothe the burn all over your skin. The cold shower you tried to take was merely tepid, and the walk to your car nearly had you on the phone declaring your resignation to your boss. Of course, Max wouldn’t put up with that, no matter how much he seemed to like you. So you slog over to the cafe, you pick up an iced bloffee in an opaque cup, and you trudge to the office. At least they keep it cool in the office, and you know how to make yourself look busy.

“Don’t you look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning!” Max remarks when you come in. You put the blatte down on his desk a little more forcefully than normal, and fix him with a scowl.

“My air-con unit is waiting for an interview at Grigor’s.”

“May it rest in pieces,” Max says with amusement. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Why didn’t you call your boss who flirted with you nonstop and took care of you while you were sick and took you on expensive, exclusive not-dates to the hottest crypt in town? Why indeed?

“I woke up in Satan’s asscrack, this is me on two hours of no central cooling and east-facing windows.” Max at least winces.

“Well, you know I’ve got the space at my place,” he says, going for casual, and tripping over his words anyway. Your eyes snap up to his. “Don’t make that face, you spend more time there than I do, practically.” You know that’s not true, but he continues. “C’mon. You know I won’t bite...you, at least.”

“I’m...” Suddenly the air in the room feels just as hot and thick as it had in your apartment. “Yes.” You know this is breaking a ton of rules, rules you had in place to protect yourself, but the danger is too tempting to turn down.

Max is surprised. “Yes?”

“Yes, I’ll stay at yours tonight.” There’s a bit of a beat before you continue. “For the air conditioning.”

“Of course.”

“Right.”

“Yes.”

“Yes...” Max takes his iced bloffee. “So. Let’s go over today.”

The morning standup goes quickly, and with your mind daydreaming hours away, when the sun goes down, it’s like you blink and it’s five. You nervously pick at the sleeve of your shirt, eyes flicking over to Max at his desk. He’s wrapping up work, a new product agreement coming down the pipeline from the regional office. You’d retrieved lunch for him and had to remind him to eat. With a last sigh, he closes the file and shuts down his computer.

“Did you want to meet me there or consolidate gas and go together from your place?” he asks, and you don’t know why you’re surprised, but some part of you seemed to truly have thought his offer had been a joke, or at least forgotten. Had it been on his mind the entire day, the way it had plagued yours?

“Yeah, let’s save gas,” you say, mouth gone dry.

“I’ll see you at yours, then. Text you when I’m on my way.” You take your leave, braving the suffocating drive home in your car. Things aren’t much better back at your apartment, and halfway through packing an overnight bag you text your landlord about the A/C issue.

Marcus L: You’re the fifteenth person to complain about there A/C today.

You want to shoot back a nasty text, but find it takes too much effort, between agonizing over what clothes you want to pack and just expiring on the floor. Max texts you.

MP: Outside.

You quickly shove a few more things into the bag and rescue your suffering little plant in the kitchen window. Poor thing, it looks like wilted salad. You lock up and send a nasty glare toward your landlord’s name on the tenant announcement board on your way out. Max is still in the car, cool air pumping full blast as you slide into the leather passenger seat with a groan.

“Never thought I’d hear that noise out of you without asking,” he says, and you’re too in love with the ventilation system in his car to care. The rest of the ride is spent in silence, relief too thick in the air to be brushed away by conversation.

Still, when the two of you pull up the drive to his house, some kind of strange sensation sinks into your stomach. This reminds you of an old memory, seeing your parents hold hands in the front of the car as you pulled up the driveway. This reminds you of a ritual long-lost to death and time, a brush of a kiss on the knuckles and a soft, “Home again, home again.” You can picture yourself in the role your mother usually sat in, and Max in the other seat, holding your hand and declaring your arrival with a kiss.

None of that happens, of course, but the feeling doesn’t fade for even a moment as you walk in.

“Wanna use the pool?” Max suggests.

“You just want to see me in a bikini.”

Max gives a shrug and takes off his jacket, disappearing into his wing of the house. You choose a guest room where you haven’t seen any blood on the floor, which you assume is the proper guest room, and not a place where Max takes his messier meals. His suggestion sits in your mind, an unshakable suggestion you can’t deny sounds amazing. You peek into the backyard and nearly choke.

Max has foregone any sense of shame and had undressed poolside, his work slacks in a haphazard pile to the side. His tight, bright red boxer briefs leave nothing to the imagination, and you have to take a deep breath to center yourself before looking away. You press your overheated body to the cool wall beside the window, sweating for an entirely additional reason now.

Could you justify doing the same, joining him in the pool? You know it’s kept at a comfortable temperature year-round, but haven’t had the chance to experience it for yourself just yet. You stand at a precipice, professionalism and security at your back, and the winds of desire and the unknown whipping at your front.

“Fuck it.”

You strip like Max had, but in the comfort of the guest room. You’re glad at least to be in something a little modest beneath all your clothes, though it won’t matter once you’re soaking wet. Before you have the chance to talk yourself out of it, you take a running start across the patio, and leap into the pool in nothing but your skivvies.

Max had heard you running up, but didn’t have time to look before he was hit with the wave of your splash. When the water settles and you finally surface, he can take in the sight of you, soaking wet and nearly naked. His eyes flash darker with desire, and he clenches his fists so he won’t reach out to touch you. When you finally blink the water out of your eyes and tread in place, you lock eyes with him. “Change your mind, then?” he asks.

“Clearly.” Just to tease him, you recline back and float, letting your body soak in the sun.

“You need sunscreen.” Max had patiently walked you through the myths and facts of being a vampire, and luckily, sunlight was only slightly irritating, unless there was sunscreen involved. For fledgling vampires, they could look like lobsters before noon. Max had worked with his tan guy to not only get rid of the sickly pallor so many of the newly-undead had, but also to formulate a more permanent form of sun protection, so he wasn’t going through several cans of sunscreen every week in the summer. He cared about things like his appearance, and namely, making his appearance seem deceptively human. So skincare and sun protection were on his mind.

“You gonna help me put it on?” you ask teasingly, half-expecting a lewd answer, and instead getting...

“What’s gotten into you?” He’s chuckling, but you can tell there’s a thread of genuine confusion beneath it all. You’d agreed to stay at his house with little-to-no convincing, and within ten minutes of arriving, had stripped to your underwear and jumped in a pool. Now, you were openly inviting him to put his hands on you, on your bare skin he so often thought about. You swim a little closer.

“Trying something new. It’s called relaxing.” Though your words are nonchalant, the sudden pounding of your heart gives away your nervousness. This is a leap of faith. Would Max show his cards, or let you fall on your face?

“Well, I know all about that,” he says, his voice dropping into that familiar low register that plagued your dreams. Suddenly, he’s right in front of you, holding you close when the displaced water threatens to push you back. You can’t help but gasp, his hands still so warm against you, and still just as shocking. He moves the both of you with ease, that incredible vampire strength coming out to play. He normally held back from most of his baser instincts and abilities, knowing it was messy and frightening to some, but all you feel is a thrill, as he hoists you up to sit on the edge of the pool. He pushes himself out next to you.

Sitting side by side like this, wet shoulder to wet shoulder, something warm and sticky and heavy settles in your gut. It feels like that same weightless drop you used to feel every time he would look at you. At first, but now, his eyes had become familiar... However, all at once, they’re not. They hold emotion instead of pride, softness instead of calculation, want instead of lust, and curiosity where there had been smugness. The butterflies in your stomach want out. They want to push the craving for a kiss up from your chest and into your mouth, they want you want you want.

But then Max is standing, and the insufferably hot summer’s day feels colder. You chew your lip and shiver at the feeling of water running down your back. You release that want as an annoyingly-besotted sigh, and jump when Max speaks again. “Miss me that much?” You look up at him. He’s blocking out the sun with his broad shoulders, leaving him with an undeserved halo around his silhouette.

“Don’t flatter yourself. Your ego’s big enough.”

“I think my ego is perfectly proportional,” he smirks, offering a hand up. You take it, feeling that lump in your throat dissolve under the warmth of his attention. “C’mon, on the deck chair.”

You sit, and pull your hair away from your shoulders so he can reach more of you. It’s an offering, a baring of the neck, leaving your guard down. It might be reckless, might be the wrong thing to do, but when he sucks in a quiet breath, you can’t help the silly smile that spreads across your face. He warms the sunscreen up in his hands before spreading it over your shoulders and neck, working slowly so every little bit is rubbed into your skin. “No tattoos?” he asks, once the silence edges into ‘mildly uncomfortable’ territory.

“No,” you sigh. “I’ve got a bit of an addictive personality. If I got one, I’d get a hundred more before I knew it.”

He huffs a laugh. “When I was Turned,” he starts, and your ears perk up. He almost never talks about his time in Romania aside from what you needed to know to do your job. “I had two full sleeves, they were pretty shitty, but I was proud of them, I guess. They stopped right before the end of my shirt cuffs. After the Turning, they were gone. I was white as snow, and not just from the blood loss.”

“They...how?” you ask, wanting to turn just to check and see.

“You sweat a lot during the Turning. My skin’s thicker now, physically. Kinda has to be, to fight the sun. There are other scientists and theories floating around, trying to understand what’s going on chemically, but as far as I know, no one’s tattoos have survived the process.” He sounds wistful, and your heart pangs a bit.

“And you can’t get any more now?”

“They don’t take. They’re more like really painful temporary tattoos. We aren’t perceptible to stains or anything like that, either. Helps with the blood, at least.”

It’s your turn to give a soft laugh. “That’s a shame. I like tattooed guys.” His hands falter for a moment, and you grin to yourself.

Then, his voice is much closer to your ear. “I still know how to leave a mark, bunny, I promise you that.” Your body lights up like a fucking jumbotron at the feeling of his whisper against your neck. “You just need to ask.”

You blush, despite it all.

“Let me get your arms.” Limb by limb, he covers your skin with sunscreen, and takes his time rubbing it in. You take your time enjoying it. By the time he gets to your neck, you’re having to bite your tongue to keep from squirming. His hands are just so big and strong. Two fingers tap beneath your chin, and you move willingly, baring your neck the most it’s ever been. Whereas before, he could have blamed his pace on thoroughness, he moves glacially now, pausing his fingers over your rapid pulse and massaging the tense muscles through the sunscreen.

Then, he’s tilting your head back down with his hand in your hair. He’s so fucking close, and through the chemical smell of the pool and the hot dusty smell of the patio, you can smell him: his cologne, his fucking hair product, that dangerous predator smell you couldn’t quite place. His lips are partially open, eyes dark, and his brow furrowed. Your instincts lift your hand to his forehead and smooth down that little furrow with your thumb. It’s the first time you’ve initiated a touch with him, sweet and caring and not enough.

“Can I kiss you, bunny?”

“Please.”

It’s hot and it’s messy and rough and you think his fangs may have descended on accident, but you don’t mind one bit. His mouth is heaven and his body is hot and clings to you like nothing else ever has. You’re both making tiny little noises in the back of your throat, rapturous little sounds of triumph that this is finally happening now.

You moan his name when his hand comes to rest on your lower back, and his fingers dig in just a little harder in response. You nip at his lower lip a little, playful and not at all thinking about the consequences. When you pull back from one another, he looks more dazed than you remember him ever being around you. He’s chasing your lips again a moment later, and his kiss meets your grin when he makes contact. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long...” he murmurs, kissing down your jaw to your neck. The sunscreen hasn’t dried, so he just leaves soft closed-mouth kisses on you for now.

“Me too,” you admit, finally. You’d lived in denial of your feelings for him for so long, mostly out of a sense of protection for your poor little heart, but also out of fear. Fear that he wouldn’t reciprocate, fear that he’d womanize his way into breaking your heart, fear of the unknown. “Me too,” you say again, firmly.

His eyes sparkle with delight as you repeat yourself. He pulls back and kisses you softly on the mouth, then your nose, and forehead, before wrapping you up in his arms like you’d dissolve into smoke if he didn’t. If he had a heart that beat, it’d be pounding. But you settle for the comfort you can get in the castle of his embrace. It’s a calm quiet between the two of you, before you realize something.

“I should’ve known you were a big softie underneath it all.”

He barks out a laugh. “You gotta keep that one a secret.”

“I don’t kiss and tell, Max.”

“I know you don’t, bunny.”

[i-am-baechu]

Title: Human  | ♞ | | ♚ | | ♛ | 

Paring: Park Jimin x reader 

Genre: Slice of life au, Angst, Romance and Fluff

Summary: A girl who accepted her fate with her health and a dancer that can easily get better from his injuries. The two are opposite within health and personality but they mix so well together that nothing else mattered but them.  

Warnings: Illusions of PTSD, surgery scars, panic attacks and talk of panic attacks, hospitals, mention of getting a shot and illusions of a eating disorder 

Author’s note: This is from personal experience. ✨

May 10th

Another day, another treatment. It’s been two years since her accident and everyone around her has moved on but her. How can one move on when everyday you see your surgery scar or have nightmares of the accident. Two years and everything is at a stand still. A never ending loop that mocks her. 

“I can help you here!”

She gave a soft smile to the lady at the front desk. She saw her so many times but never had the chance to ask for her name, too nervous to ask anything other than what she had scripted on her phone, “Oh, I have an appointment today...at noon.” 

The clicking noises of the keyboard made her eyebrow twitch but she tried her best to keep her face straight, “L/N Y/N?” 

“Ummm...Yes.” Did I really have to think about that question? For crying out loud it’s my own name, so stupid- 

“Can I see an ID to confirm?” 

“Of course.” 

Her shaking hands opened her wallet as she went through the countless cards that she swore she would throw them away, “Here it is.” 

She clicks away on her keyboard and gives her a small smile, “It says here you have a copay of fifteen dollars, let me bring it up and you can pay.” 

“Oh okay.” 

She waited for the okay from the lady and started to look around her. She stared at her mother’s car outside the window of the facility as she bit her lip. “Okay it's ready for you.” 

She immediately put her card into the machine and typed her pin into it to finalize another payment for her health. She took her card out when the machine accepted her card and gave her a final smile, “Alright, you're all in. She’ll be out here in a few minutes.” 

“Ah, thank you.” 

She sat down in the chair that was in the far corner away from everyone else waiting for their own appointments. She unlocked her phone to read some news or answer messages from her friends. Even when she answered the messages, she reread the past messages to make it look like she was busy (Even though she knew, no one cared). 

“Y/N L/N?” 

She looked up and was welcomed with the smile that she grew used to, “Hey, Y/N. How’s it going? 

“My left leg just hurts, it's normal at this point but I did make cookies with my mom.” 

“Oh, what kind of cookies?” 

They made their way towards a room to get ready for Y/N physical therapy, something she's grown used to. The nurse and her talked about random things such as cooking and then the discussion went towards her leg. Her smile turned into a frown as she let out a deep sigh, “I’ve noticed that when the weather changes to colder temperature, my leg hurts more and it feels like pulsing pain and almost burning.” 

“Have you been doing your workouts or is that too much for you?” 

She shook her head and she looked down at her fingers, “I’ve been doing them every morning or at least try.”

“Is it too much for you though?” 

“No but there are some days where I can barely move?” 

The sympathetic face made her feel worse because she can’t get better no matter what she does. She's at the same place she was two years ago, “Have you talked to your doctor about it? I don’t think physical therapy can improve your hip but your knee seems to be doing better. Make an appointment with your doctor and tell him what I think it is. I think it's chronic pain, nerve damage, Y/N.” 

“I figured...” 

“But there’s a physical therapist here that teaches a class on chronic pain and how to manage it. I think you would benefit from it.” 

“I would love to be in it, thank you.” 

The physical therapist leaves her side with a small smile as Y/N looks down at the exercise machine in front of with sad eyes. At least this time she got an answer from a doctor instead of being sent to another doctor to get the same answer. The times she wished she could make it stop, it's uncountable. She hears someone sitting next to her and she turns her head to see a man with dark brown hair that was pushed back to show his forehead. He looked irritated as if he didn’t want to be there. She saw him lift his foot up and she figured he was working out his calf muscles. It wasn’t until he turned his eyes towards her with raised eyebrows and a small smile, “So, how long have you been here?” 

It’s not a jail sentence, “Oh...I’ve been in and out of here for a year now. They're very nice and they listen to you whenever you talk...it keeps you company.” 

“I just started today. I was dancing and landed wrong and my group told me to go, so here I am.” 

“Ah, that makes sense.” 

“What makes sense?” 

She gulped and shook her head, “Oh, I meant. It's just you look so angry to be here. It makes sense because it wasn’t your choice.” 

He let out a small chuckle before looking at her, “Was this your choice?” 

She let out a deep scoff and rolled her eyes before looking at him, “Not really. A car decided that for me.” 

“Oh..I’m so sorry.” 

“At least it's a good two truth and one lie scenario, most people think it's a lie and I easily get the point.”

He gave a deep chuckle and stopped his workout to give her his full attention, “I’m Jimin.” 

“I’m Y/N.” 

June 3rd 

Another day, Another treatment. She opened the door and saw Jimin sitting waiting for her while he looked through his phone. She let a smile appear and let his name escape her mouth causing him to look up with confusion but replacing it with a wide smile when he saw her. 

“Y/N. I just finished my last session when you texted me you were on your way.”

“Oh, Jimin. You don’t have to wait for me.” 

“I thought you were done with all of your sessions?” 

“I’m taking classes here. Teaching me about my chronic pain and my nerve issues, boring but helpful.” 

“Nerve issues?” 

She nodded her head and turned to see the teacher give her a gentle wave, “I signed in through my phone because I was running late. Jimin, please don’t wait. It’s already two in the afternoon and you finished your session, you must be tired.” 

“I’ll wait for you, don't worry. I’ll tell your mom to go home, so I can take you home.” 

She bit her lip in nervousness but shook her head, “I would love to, but I’m scared to drive with someone other than my parents. I’m sorry. It’s not you, it’s just after my-”

“You don’t need to explain yourself. I may not get it but I can try to get it. I’ll still wait for you though.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“If it involves you then yes, I am very sure.”  

Her face flushed a little and smiled at him, “Okay. It should be an hour sometimes longer than that, sorry in advance.” 

He watched her walk away and waved back at her with a huge grin on his face. He took his phone out and messaged the group chat with the other members, I’m going to be late. 

An hour passed and he was reading an article on Webmd but was stopped when he saw Y/N walking towards him and that smile came through, “How did it go?” 

She let a deep sigh out and sat next to him, “It went fine.”

“Oh, that's good then.”

“That’s the problem. Everything was fine but me. I wasn’t fine.”

He grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, “Why?” 

“I know this is what my life is now but I can’t accept it because someone else caused it. It’s so stupid, I should be over it but...Should I be over it because everyone else is?”

“No, no. You should go through it at your own pace. No one is rushing you.” 

“It feels like that though. Everyone wants me to get better but I can’t because there’s always something else wrong with me.” 

“The one good thing I can say is that, you're here with me right now. Your breathing and I can feel your warmth. You should focus on that more, Y/N.”

She looked at him as he was already staring at her with the smile she's now used to, “I can feel your warmth too, I guess that makes me happy.” 

“You guess?” 

“I said what I said.” 

June 30th

 I’m outside 

She raised her eyebrows and got up from her couch to look outside her window to confirm the text. She let a smile escape and put her shoes on by the stairs. Looked up the stairs with a smile, “Mom! Dad! I’ll be outside for a bit!” 

Not bothering to wait for an answer she walked outside in excitement to see him leaning against his car in a tan shirt and jeans looking casual but on him it was something else. She didn’t know what model it was but whatever the model was, the car was sure shiny. “What a surprise.” 

“I thought I would drop off some bubble tea and some fish cake for you. I remember you telling me you were craving it.” 

She let out a chuckle as she watched him pull it out of his car with excitement in his eyes, like a child in a candy shop but cuter. She took the fishcake and tea and gave him a frown, “I have extra croissants in the kitchen, maybe take a couple for yourself and the others.” 

“No need.” 

“But I feel bad.” 

He brought his hands up to her checks and squished them gently, “I wanted to do this for you. Don’t feel bad.” 

When he brought his hand down he watched her puff up cheeks slightly and thought it was cute. 

“How about we eat it together?” 

“Y/N, are you asking me out on a date?” 

“I-I, No. I just wanted to make sure you eat nothing more and nothing less. Don’t look into it.” 

“Whatever you want.” 

July 9th

“My therapist thought it would be good for me to come out...” 

“You don’t sound so happy about it.” 

She tilted her head at Jimin and shook her head as the loudness of the restaurant increased, “It's not that...it’s just....so loud.” There’s too many people here, why couldn’t we hang out in my bedroom watching a movie? 

“You don’t think it will be good for you?” 

“You're not my therapist, I’m not paying you to tell me what to do.” 

“But I'm paying for dinner so, eat.” 

“Mean...”

She picked up her fork and stared at her food with a blank expression. He knew that she hasn’t been eating lately because of her nerves and her panic attacks. What a smart man, taking me out in public because he knows I would feel bad. Especially with the touch of paying for dinner. Asshole. 

She took a bite of her chicken as she felt his eyes on her, “You don’t need to stare.” 

“I’m just making sure you're eating.” 

“I do eat-”  

“Not enough, though.” 

She rolled her eyes and took another bite of the food when she started hearing shouting in the kitchen. She turned her head slowly and everything went blurry. All the voices started to mix together and she brought both of hands to clench the front of her shirt, her lungs felt like it was taking their last breath. She kept trying to lift her head up to look at Jimin but she couldn’t, if she did she felt like her neck would break. 

“Y/N?”

She didn’t lift her head from her lap as she choked out, “We need to leave.” 

“Okay, we’ll leave...Let me just pay for this first, okay?” 

She nodded her head and heard his chair move,  I knew it was too early for this. She closed her eyes and brought her hands up to cover her ears. She felt so embarrassed for having this attack in front of him, it was something she wanted to hide. She only wanted him to see her happiness or what she thought was her being happy. She let out a cough out to hide her silent sob but she knew someone heard it and she hated that. She felt a hand on her shoulder and the smell that she became familiar with made her somewhat at ease. She grabbed her things and stood up slowly, not wanting to faint from the sudden movement.

She gripped his hand that was now holding hers tightly. She continued to stare at the ground not wanting to make eye contact with him as he led her out of the restaurant. The cold air hit her bare legs as he dress skirt moved with the wind making her feel like something was wrapping a blanket around her. She heard the car door getting opened and tossed her things into the car without hesitation. She jumped into the car closing the door as fast as she could. She finally let out the sob that she was holding as she started to cry. She heard the car door open but couldn’t move to look at him as she cried harder. She felt his stare and a small whisper from him made her rush into his chest, “Y/N, come here.”

She went towards him and straddled his waist, putting her face into his chest and let the tears out. He rubbed her back kissed the top of her head, something that didn’t go unnoticed by her. He put his fingers under her chin to make her look at him, “Jimin, I’m so sorry.”

“There’s no need to say sorry. I’m still here.”

She let out deep breath out as she shook her head, “I-I ruined everything. I made you waste money and the restaurant wasted food because of me. That food would’ve looked so good, I know my mom would love it. I CAN’T EVEN HAVE DINNER. I’M SO USELESS-“

“Y/N.”

He’s stern voice made her stop and she stared at him as more tears run down her face. He gently wiped the tears away to give her small smile as he tried not to cry in front of her, “You are not useless. Far from it.”

“But I ruined-“

“We can have dinner another day together. It’s fine. Things happen.”

She stared at him and shook her head, “I-I shouldn’t be crying over something so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it makes you cry.”

He pushed some hair back to see her glossy eyes and gave her tiny smile. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You are not useless. Please don’t ever say that about yourself especially in front of me.”

She didn’t say anything but she leaned forward to put her forehead on his shoulder as he rubbed her back. The silence was a comfortable one but was ruined when her stomach made a noise. He let out a chuckle, “I guess you didn’t eat that much.”

“I didn’t eat anything all day I wanted to save up for dinner”

“We’ll talk about that later but for now, we’ll go to McDonald’s and we’ll watch that history documentary you started.”

“Really!? You hate history documentaries though.”

“Tonight is about you”

August 16th

“Hi Mrs. L/N. I was wondering if Y/N is okay? She hasn’t been answering my texts today.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Jimin. She forgot to tell you. She got cortisone shot.”

“A cortisone shot?”

He heard shuffling on the other side and a deep sigh, “Her doctor wanted to see if it helped her but she’s been laying in bed all day since this morning. She’s either moaning in pain or sleeping.”

“I’ll be there.”

He grabbed his jacket off of his chair and Hoseok raised his eyebrow at him, “Are you going somewhere?”

“Y/N, she needs me.”

Hoseok nodded his head and waved him off, “Tell her hi for me.”

“If I remember.”

He fast walked out of the dorm avoiding conversations with Jin and Jungkook who were arguing over banana milk. When he got into his car he couldn’t think of anything else by Y/N. The pain she must be experience right now. Webmd said the area was going to be sore but he know Y/N is weak against medication and shots. He pulled into a parking of grocery store to pick up random snacks and drinks she liked, as well as food that he knew her family liked.

He parked his car outside her house and knocked on the door to meet her father, “Hello, Mr. L/N.”

“Hey Jimin? Did you need something?”

“Oh, I heard Y/N got a shot and I wanted to visit her. I also brought you your favorite snacks.”

“Thanks? She’s in her room sleeping right now. The doors cracked open.”

He nodded his head and headed up the stairs as he felt the stare from her father but ignored it. He opened the door and saw her sleeping on her right side. He let small laugh out when he saw her cartoon pajama pants and sent the plastic bags on the floor when her dog came running towards him. He quietly cooed at the dog as he made his way to see Y/N’s face. He smiled at the peacefulness she had and crouch down to push hair out of her face and stared at her lips. Next time. 

He gently shook her shoulders as she let out a deep moan and she wiped her mouth as he saw some drool, “Mom, I don’t want to eat. I’m so tired.” 

“Sorry I’m not your mom but I am your Jimin.”

Her eyes shot wide opened and turned her head towards him as she let out a deep moan, “You saw nothing.”

“But I saw everything. How is everything?”

She rolled onto her back with her eyebrows furrowed, “My doctor offered a shot and he explained to me everything it can do. It sounded great but then he injected it. That was the worst feeling I have ever had and I’ve had morphine in my body.”

He shook his head as he let a small laugh escape, “I’m sure it will help.” 

“It fucking better. With how much I hurt, it better make me feel like a new person.” 

September 18th

“So when are we going to meet her, Jimin?” 

He rolled his eyes at Taehyung and put his phone back into his front pocket, “Whenever she feels comfortable.” 

The rest of the group sat on the floor of the practice room with sweat coming down their faces and deep breaths coming out. Hoseok looked up from his water bottle to give him a raised eyebrow, “Is that code for something?” 

“No. She’s just going through something right now and I don’t want to stress her out.” 

His phone buzzed and pulled it out with a smile but was replaced with wide eyes, “I have to go.” 

“Jimin, what about practice?” 

“I have to go guys, I’ll practice tomorrow with you guys. I promise” 

He ran out the room before they could answer and gripped his phone as tight as he could as the message that put him in panic was on full display. This is Y/N’s friend, she fell down the stairs and is in the hospital right now. I know it's late but it would make me feel better if you visited her, she's going to need you. 

She was in the Er with her dad as he pushed some hair back from her face. She gave him a sad smile as she continued to play with her fingers, “I’m sorry dad.” 

“Y/N, you fell because your leg gave out, it’s not your fault.” 

“Still...” 

A doctor opened the door and gave her the same smile she was used to seeing from them, “Miss L/N, we took a look at the x-rays and everything seems to be fine. Your screws in your hip aren’t moving anywhere but I do believe you have a bruised bone now. Put heat or ice, whatever feels comfortable and we’ll send the prescription of pain pills to your pharmacy.”  

She nodded her head and gave the doctor the best smile she could give, “Thank you, doctor.” 

“No worries, have a good night.” 

She watched him leave and let out the deep breath she was holding in and looked over at her dad, “At least it's not broken?” 

“Y/N, don’t joke like that. I’m glad you're fine and it's not worse. Let's get home before your mother has a heart attack.” 

She let out a laugh as her dad helped her off of the bed with his hand. They walked down the hallway slowly and took breaks whenever it was too much for her. He opened the door for her when her eyes landed on a familiar face, “Jimin?” 

He looked up in a rush and walked towards her slowly, “Are you alright?” 

“It's late Jimin, shouldn’t you be resting by now? You worked-”

“Y/N, What happened?” 

She looked up at her father with pleading eyes and he understood what she was asking for, “I’ll be in my car. Text me when you're done so I can drive to the front to pick you up.” 

She nodded her head and Jimin took her hand as he slowly led her to the hospital chairs. He let her gripped onto his arm as she crouched down to sit with pain written over her face, he never felt so helpless in his life. 

“This morning, it didn’t start off the best. I was tired from last night, stayed up all night because of a nightmare and a panic attack I had. I was walking down the stairs and my knee gave up and here we are now.” 

“You had a panic attack?” 

“A few if i’m being honest...” 

“Y/N...” 

He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of her hand as she gave him a small smile, “I don’t need pity-”

“It's not like that, Y/N. It’s me trying to be there for you.” 

“But why?” 

“Because I understand, somewhat. Not physically because each person is different. But the feeling of nothingness, I understand it. No one deserves it but it's bound to happen to most people. As sad as it is, it's true. It’s also because I like you. I really like you.” 

She looked at him with wide eyes and stared at him with shock, “We’ve only known each other for a few months-” 

“I know but I already see the type of person you are within these months. Honestly, it’s been the best few months I've had in years. Your awkwardness and straightforwardness at times made me feel something I haven’t felt since high school.”

“Puberty?” 

“What? No. My heart beats fast when I see your name on my phone or the smile whenever I see you. It makes me happy but not only that I feel complete.” 

She bit her lip and looked down at her lap with a single tear escaping, “How can you like me when everything is wrong with me?” 

He lifted up her chin to make her look at him and he wiped the tears from her face, “Because I don’t see that, Y/N. I only see you. We all go through things in life that changes us emotionally and physically but that’s the beauty of being human.” 

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Place To Call Home: Dads

Summary: When the reader gets an offer to make some money on the side, things quickly evolve to Jensen learning about where some of the reader and TJ’s money has been going, namely TJ’s father. Jensen offers to help out but discovers that Rick might be up to something... 

Masterlist

Square: A Place To Call Home

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 7,600ish

Warnings: language, angst (so much family angst), minor injury

A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story Bingo. This part takes place after the Halloween timestamp. Enjoy!

______

“Thank you, Barry,” you said as he left the office at the brewery. Your head was still up when your dad slipped inside and he shut the door. “What’s up?”

“There’s a talent scout out in the draft room,” he said.

“Fascinating,” you said, going back to reading over a contract with a new distributor.

“Y/N they’re here to see you.” You turned in your seat and stared at him, breaking out into a giggle. “I’m serious.”

“This is by far your worst prank yet.”

“You modeled some of the new merch last week? He’s here for you,” he said.

“To what, model?” you scoffed. “No thank you.”

“Well can you go tell him that because he was insisting on hearing it from you,” he said. You sighed and walked out front, a guy in a suit with no tie on sipping from a glass. He smiled when he saw your dad behind you. 

“Ms. Ackles,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s Mrs. Hanover,” you said with a friendly enough smile. 

“You’re clearly used to some hard negotiations.”

“I’m tougher than I look Mr…”

“Elbridge but please call me Dan.”

“What can I do for you today, Dan?” you asked. He walked out to a quieter spot by the railing, settling at one ot the standing tables.

“I work for a talent agency, Mrs. Hanover. We’ve worked with your father a few times when he was starting out,” he said, your dad giving a nod. “We’ve seen your modeling pictures and we’re very interested in you doing a shoot.”

“I appreciate the offer but my answer is no. I’m not a model or an actress or any of the things my parents are besides someone invested in this brewery,” you said.

“She is a tough cookie,” he said as he looked at your dad. “I’m assuming you told her nothing I told you.”

“You gotta sell it on your own,” he said.

“Y/N, we’d like you to be in a commercial with some other women. An underwear commercial.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a commercial for inclusivity for people with differences,” he said.

“He means the scar on your back, Y/N. From the accident,” said your dad.

“You’re exactly the kind of person we want included in the line. There’ll be a photo run of things too and-“

“Why exactly do you know I have a scar on my back?”

“Your Instagram. I assumed it was public knowledge.”

“Okay but it’s not even that big. Like it blends in. I’m boring. Get like, an amputee or a burn survivor. That’s inclusive. I’m average.”

“We have a vast array of women in the line including those types and all kinds of body types. But you’re...a brand name we could put to the project.”

“Brand name,” you said. He hummed and you laughed. “My dad? That’s a brand name, not me. Throw him in some underwear and I’m sure you’ll get all the attention you want.”

“Well we want you,” he said. He pulled out a business card and handed it over. “Our initial offer is on the back but we’re open to negotiations. Call us if you think you might be interested. Oh and the beer’s great.”

“Thanks,” you said, looking over the card. The guy had wandered off by the time you flipped it over.

“I told him you wouldn’t be interested,” said your dad, sipping from his bottle of water. You blinked at the card, your dad raising an eyebrow. “You’re not considering it are you?”

“Dad,” you said. You flipped the card around and showed it to him, water spitting out of his mouth.

“Hey, Dan,” he said, rushing back and waving him over. Dan smiled as he walked back, drink in his hand.

“I thought that’d-” said Dan before your dad got in his face. “Is there a problem?”

“What are you up to,” he said.

“Dad.”

“Y/N no one gets offered that much money off the street. No one. So I’m gonna ask again. What are you up to?” 

“It’s for a package deal. A photo shoot. A commercial. Ad sponsorship for three months bi-weekly on her social media accounts. We’d also like her to design the set for the commercial. There’s a time crunch of next week so we felt a hundred was a fair offer for that amount of work on short notice,” said Dan. “If she were simply modeling, we’d offer her twenty five but this is our biggest line of the year. You are more than welcome to come along every step of the way.”

“Dan I really do appreciate the offer but I’m not a model. I don’t even remember the last time I wore makeup. I will happily design a set and build if you like and maybe I can do the ad thing but I’m not a model like my parents. Can I talk to my dad for a second?”

He nodded and walked off a ways, your dad sighing.

“Maybe mom could do it or something? She’s done that stuff before,” you said.

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do. Go for the set design for sure. You’re good at it and I know you get to break back into your architecture skills for that. But the rest...once you get on that train you can’t get off.”

“Dad, people already know who I am. I have like...an obnoxious number of followers on my accounts and stuff. My most popular posts? Always about you. I’ve never been in the shadows.”

“I know but that’s different than you doing these things. If you start taking pictures in underwear, you’re gonna attract at least a few weirdos and most of them are harmless but maybe some aren’t and there is a reason that Uncle Cliff still hangs out with me at certain times.”

“It’s a hundred thousand dollars. TJ and I could pay off the lawyer fees for Allie’s adoption finally,” you said. “We could get our mortgage payment down.”

“You’ve never cared about money,” he said. You pursed your lips and he narrowed his eyes. “Are things tight?”

“Dad.”

“Are they?”

“I don’t ask about your finances.”

“I sat down with both you and TJ when you bought the house and even with the renovation costs, your monthly payment was very affordable. Allie’s adoption should have been paid off months ago.”

“Do you stalk our spending now or what?” you shot back.

“Well you haven’t bought a new car or any big expenses. Where’s the money going?” he asked.

“I’ll take the set design and leave it at that,” you said. You brushed past him and over to Dan. 

Thirty minutes later you had a signed contract and were back in your office, your dad grumbling as he walked inside.

“I’m busy,” you said.

“Where’s the money going, Y/N?”

“TJ and I make very good money,” you said, typing up an email. He leaned over the desk and narrowed his eyes. “I took the set design only for twenty. Happy?”

“Why do you need twenty thousand dollars?”

“Coming from the guy who made how much fucking money for a single freaking episode? At least I’m not slutting out my face,” you said. He stood back and slammed the door shut on his way out. You sighed and got up, finding him out back, splitting old pallets down. “Dad I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled. 

“Dad. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah you did,” he said. “That is exactly why I didn’t want you doing that shoot. Then all you are is a pretty face.”

He moved a pallet and picked up the axe again, bringing it down in the center.

“Dad.”

“What?” he snapped as he spun around. 

“I said it because I knew it’d make you mad and piss you off and get you to drop it. It’s the only reason I said it. Please stop asking about where my money goes. Please.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Dad I said to stop asking.”

“Tough shit,” he said with a shrug. “Call me whatever you want. Maybe I get pissed off but I’ll cool off too. I know how much you make and I know how much he makes and I know you two have both been taking side jobs recently. You should have your house paid off by now, not barely making your mortgage. What’s going on and I want the truth.”

“I can’t.”

“What’s TJ involved in,” he said. You looked away and he nodded. “There are very few reasons why you wouldn’t tell me the truth and considering how small Allie and Colin are, he’s the only one I can think of.”

“I can’t.”

“Hey! There you are,” said TJ, walking around the corner with a bag in his hand. “I was out at a ranch nearby for work and figured we could have lunch together.”

“Speak of the little devil,” said your dad. He dropped the axe and TJ set the food on the hood of his truck, cocking his head.

“You okay, Jensen?” he asked.

“Peachy,” he said, putting his hands on his hips when he stopped in front of him. “So. Want to tell me what’s going on with your finances lately?”

TJ glanced to you and you shook your head.

“Nothing,” said TJ quietly.

“You want to try that again and not lie to me this time?” asked Jensen. TJ shook his head and your dad shut his eyes. “If you’re involved in something bad, let me help. I have money.”

“TJ just tell him,” you said. TJ sighed and picked up the food, walking over to the employee picnic area and sat down. You took a seat beside him and TJ handed you a wrapped burrito, your dad sitting across from him.

“I’m not angry. Let me help is all,” said your dad.

“It’s not us who’s in trouble,” said TJ. Your dad looked to you and you nodded. “It’s my dad.”

“Oh you two,” he said, shutting his eyes. “You’re paying off Rick’s debt he owes somebody, aren’t you.”

“Rick owes money to a bookie and...he beat him up kinda bad and we have extra so…” you said, your dad staring at you. “He asked us not to tell anyone.”

“How much?” he asked.

“Five...hundred,” said TJ. 

“Five hundred thousand?” he asked, your heads nodding. “Five hundred thousand? What...how much have you given him already?”

“About half,” said TJ. Your dad shook his head and put his hands over his face, quickly pulling them off. “I know it’s a lot.”

“Yeah…” he said, swallowing to himself.

“We got it covered. Really. At the rate we’re doing extra side work-”

“Kids...you’re both so kind I think you missed something pretty important,” said your dad. 

“I don’t understand,” said TJ. He looked to you and you shrugged. 

“Guys that’s a lot of money. That’s...an extraordinary amount of money to a lot of people. How on earth does your father owe that much money all of a sudden?” asked your dad.

“He made some bets he lost on,” said TJ.

“But how could it be that much. What was the original bet?”

“What?”

“What was the original bet he made and lost on?”

“I don’t know. We figured it must have been like a hundred.”

“So your father bet a hundred, say he lost. That’s two hundred. Say he got some insane interest on it. Okay. Maybe, maybe he truly owes that much. But where did he get that original one hundred?”

“He didn’t have it,” said TJ. “We think.”

“Okay. He bet badly and ends up owing the whole thing,” he said.

“Exactly.”

“Do you give this money to Rick or the bookie?” asked your dad.

“My dad. He didn’t want us to get involved with the guy,” said TJ. 

“Okay,” said your dad. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna drive up to your folks this afternoon TJ and talk to your dad, see what’s left he owes. I will pay the rest.”

“Jensen that’s a lot of money.”

“I know it is. But it’s better to get him out of the hole quickly before something were to happen and I can afford it. Okay? I’m gonna head up. You two enjoy your lunch. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

Something was off about him as he stood and left but you weren’t quite sure what was wrong.

“My dad’s gonna be pissed. He didn’t want Jensen to know at all,” said TJ.

“He wants to help. He’s got a point. The quicker it’s paid off, the quicker your dad’s out of danger. Let’s have lunch and you can tell me about that ranch you’re fixing up.”

“Arrow,” you grumbled that night as she reached for the hot pan. “Let it cool off.”

“Why are we having dinner at your house?” she asked. “No offense but you can only cook like five things.”

“Would you like to cook dinner for seven?” you asked. She held up her hands and you rolled your eyes.

“To be fair, Colin still eats baby food,” she said.

“Thank you for volunteering to feed your nephew,” you said with a grin.

“I didn’t-”

“Ro!” he said as he waddled into the kitchen, wrapping her legs up in a hug.

“I hate you,” she said, narrowing her eyes before she picked him up.

“Thank you Arrow,” you said as she put him on her hip. “He’s got dinner in the fridge if you wouldn’t mind?”

“I got it,” she said, opening it up one handed. “Mom and dad have some last minute thing or something?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your phone ringing, Jared’s name popping up. “Can you get that?”

“Hey Uncle Jared,” she said, hitting it on speaker.

“Arrow? Hey you mind finding your sister for me?” he asked.

“She’s busy making dinner. Apparently it’s very difficult.”

“I’m here Jared,” you said. You grabbed the phone and shoved it between your shoulder and ear. “What’s up?”

“Don’t freak out,” he said. “But come outside.”

You turned down the heat on the stove and went out the front door, finding Jared on the seat out front.

“Uh, what’s up?” you asked, pulling the door shut behind you. “This is weird.”

“Your dad may have...listen. Shit went down when Jensen went up to see TJ’s dad whatever his fuckface name is.”

“Jared.”

“Oh you’re about to call him fuckface too.”

“What happened?”

“Well...he had a bad feeling about this whole thing. He and De went up there to talk to them. Things aren’t...your dad’s in the hospital.”

“What?” you said quietly. He stood up and gave you a smile, pulling you into a hug.

“It’s okay. He got a little cut when he got...pushed,” he said. 

“Jared,” said TJ, stepping outside with a curious look. “What’s up dude?”

“Normally being the Uncle is the fun stuff,” he said. TJ frowned when you both saw a cop car pull into your driveway, Cody getting out. “Codes.”

“Dad, I got this,” he said as he hopped up on the porch. You smiled and looked back at TJ. “Oh shut up. I got adopted like six months ago. I might as well.”

“What exactly is happening?” asked TJ.

“Dad,” said Cody again. Jared sat back in the seat, Cody sighing. “TJ...dude I’m sorry. You’re like my brother.”

“Did my...did something happen to my parents,” he said quietly, Cody’s head shaking. “Oh.”

“Rick’s been stealing money from you. There’s no bookie to pay off. Jensen and De went up today to talk to him and they found out the truth and your dad’s got in a fist fight and you guys ought to head up North. It’s not my jurisdiction so I’m not much help.”

“My father did what?” said TJ. Cody glanced at you and you looked down. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” he said. “TJ the police from your hometown looked into it. He took the money. He’s claiming it was a gift from the two of you but we all know that’s not true.”

“No, he’s been making progress. We’ve been making progress. We’ve been getting along really well,” said TJ.

“Did that start when you started giving him money?” asked Cody.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying what I know as a cop. Did your relationship start changing when money started exchanging hands?”

“Why does he hate me,” said TJ. You grabbed his hand and he shut his eyes. “He must hate me. That’s the only reason I can see why he would do something like that.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” you said.

“He hates you and Jensen. He thinks De is eye candy to stare at. I don’t know how on earth he can pretend to like me,” he said.

“TJ,” said Jared.

“You gonna tell me he loves me or some shit? It’s not good enough,” said TJ.

“I was gonna say you can cut him out of your life if you want to and you’re still gonna have a dad you know. I don’t understand him. I do think he loves you but there’s some resentment towards everyone else you call family. I don’t know why but it’s your choice what you want to do. I’m gonna go inside and finish cooking dinner and we’ll watch all of them tonight. Y/N-”

“I got him,” you said with a nod. 

Ten minutes later you were on the road and driving, TJ staring out the passenger window. 

“Honey-”

“Don’t,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. You reached over and grabbed his hand, TJ squeezing it. “We’re going to my parents house after and we’re packing up as much crap as we can to bring back. I’m never speaking to him again after tonight.”

“TJ.”

“All the late hours I put in doing side jobs. All the jobs you’ve been doing for set design on the weekends. For months and months we’ve been doing it. Straight into his fucking pocket. We could have paid off the house with that money. Paid off bills. That’s our money. It’s our kids money. It’s not some sack of shit’s to go buy whatever he wants with. I could fucking kill him.”

“We’ll get it back,” you said.

“It’s not about the money.”

“I know, babe,” you said. 

“Why is he like that?”

“It’s not an excuse but I think he was raised very poorly and he doesn’t...he knows it’s wrong but I think he thinks we have so much it’s okay if he takes from us.”

“He took two hundred and fifty thousand dollars from us. A year of side jobs for the both of us on top of everything else. We sleep four hours a night. We weren’t handed that. We worked for it. We worked our asses off. All that pressure and all the pressure we thought somebody would hurt him if we were late with money? I can’t believe I ever gave a shit about him. I should have trusted you. You’ve never liked him. No one in your family did. Even Arrow and that kid loves everybody. I should have trusted you guys.”

“TJ they didn’t like him because of the way he treated you, not me. I knew he was a dick when I met him but he belittles you, so, so much. We hate that he does that to you.”

“I don’t know how my mom is married to someone like him.”

“Don’t cut her out,” you said. “She raised you. You’re all her. Anyone who meets you can see that.”

“He’s going to lie when I see him again. I don’t know what to do,” he said. 

“Why?” you asked.

“Because.” You pulled over and he sat back in his seat. He turned his head and you saw all the tears streaming down his face.

“Honey,” you said. You leaned over and hugged him, TJ gripping you back.

“He’d kick my ass for crying right now.”

“Who was it that sat up with my dad after the accident and let him cry all over him? My dad who hates to cry and he’s not afraid to cry in front of you.”

“He’s strong. I’m not.”

“You’re my best friend. The girl who thought she was so fucked up and would be alone. God, Thomas. You gave me something even my parents and family couldn’t. You know how I never thought in a million years I could have this kind of love and you were never scared. The insecurities. The nightmares. The days where I’m quiet and my head gets to me. You just grab my hand and you make it better. You’re stronger than most everyone on this planet. I love and I’ve loved you since I met you and I’ll do anything for you, you know that. We’re partners. If you want to give your dad another chance you can and I won’t question it for a second.”

“I don’t want to talk to him again,” he said, sitting up somewhat. “But how do I say that when you didn’t get a choice? You didn’t get a choice with your parents. They were just gone and you had no say. How can I just walk away like that?”

“My parents didn’t treat me like the way your father does. Neither of my moms or dads ever have. You can walk away from someone that does, TJ. I don’t want you near someone like that. Jared was right too you know. You’re not gonna lose a dad tonight. You’ve always had one and he’s gonna be there for you always.”

“He hurt Jensen, didn’t he?” he sniffled.

“I’m sure he's fine. He’s very...defensive of his children is all.”

“Jensen gave me a letter,” he said. “Addressed to me. That’s when I really knew he loved me.”

“He loved you before that.”

“I know he did. I don’t know why I wanted my dad when I’ve had Jensen the whole time.”

“I’ve been there. Trust me,” you said. He let out a small laugh and you hugged him, TJ taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry Rick hurt you.”

“He hurt both of us.”

“Yeah but I care more about the fact he hurt you. I may deck him when I see him,” you said.

“That’d be kinda awesome,” he said. “But please don’t.”

“Hugs instead?” you said.

“I’ll take hugs,” he said. His stomach grumbled and you kiss his temple. 

“I’m gonna hit the drive thru and then we’ll get on the road again, okay honey?”

“Okay,” he said. You kissed him one last time before you got out of the car and dug around in the trunk. You took out your oversized hoodie and brought it up to the front, handing it to him. “What’s this?”

“You can steal it if you want. Your hoodie’s kinda make me feel better on crappy days,” you said.

“Thanks,” he said. “I really love you.”

“Me too. It’s gonna be okay.”

One Hour Later

“Let’s go to the hospital first,” said TJ as you hit the edge of town. 

“Jared said my dad was fine.”

“Y/N. Let’s go to the hospital,” he said. You nodded and about ten minutes later you were parked and getting a room number. He held your hand on the elevator ride up, kissing the top of your head. “You alright?”

“I’d prefer if he could stay out of the hospital.”

“Me too,” he said, the doors opening. You walked a little too quickly until you found the room, your mom and dad talking as you walked in.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked.

“Jared and Cody came by and we learned some stuff,” you said. “Why are you in the hospital? You look...normal.”

“Your father hit his head.”

“I’m fine.”

“After the accident last year-”

“It was nearly a year ago.”

“After the accident they wanted to be safe and monitor overnight just in case. He got a cut on his arm from some metal but that’s all,” said your mom. 

“I’m fine,” said your dad. He got up out of bed and spun around. “See? No concussion. An itty bitty scratch is all you worry worts.”

“Was there a fight?” you asked. He sat down and sighed. “You don’t look like it.”

“No,” he said. He looked at TJ and pursed his lips. “TJ would you mind grabbing me a drink from the vending machine?”

“Whatever you want to say, you’re gonna say it in front of me,” he said. 

“Mom and I went up to your parents place and it started out okay. But your mom didn’t quite understand what was going on. She thought Rick had been doing well betting horses at a track and that’s where the sudden money came from. Things...devolved from there and Rick got defensive and I was angry so we started arguing and he shoved me and your mom and De shut it down and the cops came and I’m sorry but he took the money for himself. Last we heard from your mom a little while ago she’s giving all the money back to you guys.”

“You pressing charges?” asked TJ.

“It was a shove. He didn’t take my money. You two are the ones that have a right to charge him,” he said.

“Do you know where my mom is?” asked TJ.

“She’s at your house along with your dad,” he said.

“Y/N why don’t you hang here with your parents,” said TJ. You shook your head and he frowned. “You’re worried about your dad. Stay.”

“He’s okay and I’m coming with you,” you said.

“Me too,” said your mom. 

“De-”

“TJ. You’re not gonna win this one,” she said. “Jensen’s okay on his own for a bit and he’d come if he could. You’re not gonna go talk to your dad alone.”

“Fine. Let’s go,” he said, already leaving the room. Your mom grabbed her purse and you ran your hands over your face.

“Go take care of him,” said your dad quietly.

“Dad.” You walked in front of him and he wrapped his arms around you. “He’s gonna be fucked up.”

“I know. We’ll take care of him,” he said. He kissed your temple and pushed you towards the door gently. “Go take care of your husband.”

“We’ll be back.”

“Guys I think maybe I should go in first,” said your mom a short while later, the three of you parked in his parent’s driveway. 

“No,” said TJ.

“Thomas.”

“Danneel,” he said. He turned in the passenger seat and she sighed. “I’m a big boy. I can go in first.”

“Don’t be violent.”

“I won’t,” he said quietly. She kissed his cheek and nodded. 

“Okay sweetie. Let’s get this over with,” she said. You got out and took his hand, TJ not as tense as you were expecting.

“His car isn’t here,” he said quietly on the way up the porch steps. He rang the doorbell and the door flew open, his mom standing there. “Hi mom.”

“I kicked him out for the night,” she said, letting the door open for the three of you. “I’m so sorry. Danneel is Jensen-”

“He’s pissed but fine,” said your mom, following you inside. TJ walked around for a moment, stopping at a picture on the wall.

“Mom. Why does dad hate me?” he asked. He looked over his shoulder and she frowned. “He manipulated me and Y/N. He’s horrible to her family. I get that he went through something as a kid but he’s a grown man.”

“Your father loves you. He doesn’t always know the best way to show it,” she said.

“He hurt me and you’re gonna side with him. Again,” he said.

“He made a mistake.”

“Hell of a mistake,” you mumbled.

“Do you think he wants to be the way he is?” she asked.

“I could have gotten past everything before but this? He doesn’t get to worm his way out of it. I’m done with him.”

“Then you’re gonna be done with me too,” she said. TJ turned around and she lifted her chin. “He doesn’t deserve to thrown out of your life over a mistake.”

“I seem to recall you not saying a word when he almost hit your grandaughter with a belt,” said TJ. “Why do you make excuses for him?”

“Why do you hate him?” she asked. TJ threw up his hands and shook his head. “Always since you were a little boy you’ve hated him.”

“He didn’t want me, not the other way around. I know he worked a lot but all I wanted when he came home at night was a hug or a bedtime story. I wasn’t asking for much,” said TJ. “He resented me.”

“He put in all those long hours for you, to provide for you.”

“I’ve been working since I was fourteen. I paid for my own things from the second I was able to. I paid for school all on my own. My apartment. My car. I paid for my wedding and honeymoon. He paid for food and roof over my head which is the bare minimum he could have done. Don’t tell me he provided for me. He fucking hated me.”

“Because you’re not his,” she said. You and your mom looked at one another, TJ blinking where he stood. “Rick isn’t your father.”

“Excuse me?”

“I cheated on your father because he can be an asshole and I needed an escape. He found out when I was pregnant.”

“Excuse me?” asked TJ again.

“He never wanted children because he thought he’d be a bad father. I guess he was right in your mind,” she said. 

“If you’re gonna tell the story, you might as well tell the whole thing,” said Rick. He stepped out from down the hall, TJ’s mom sighing. 

“So you are here,” said TJ.

“Car’s in the shop,” he said. 

“You hate me?” 

“I love you. It doesn’t mean I’m a good person though,” he said.

“You stole from us.”

“Yes I did.”

“Why?”

“This house is the size of your living room. You have so much.”

“If you wanted money just fucking ask,” said TJ.

“Like I said, just cause I love you doesn’t mean I’m a good person.”

“You’re not even my father apparently.”

“I’m your father,” he said. “Didn’t make ya but I’m your father.”

“What’s the story?” asked your mom. They all looked to her and she looked at TJ’s mom. “What don’t we know.”

“You ever wonder how someone like me wound up with someone like your mother? We’re polar opposites most days,” said Rick. TJ narrowed his eyes and looked between them.

“Don’t tell him,” said his mom.

“Alright,” said Rick. “I must have been mistaken.”

“TJ, can I talk to you,” you said, pulling him into the kitchen. “TJ do you remember in family studies when we had that project to track our family trees and you found your parents marriage certificate and the year was wrong?”

“Y/N what’s that got to do with anything.”

“What if the year wasn’t wrong.”

“It can’t be. They would have gotten married after I was born then.”

“TJ I’m not saying your dad is great but he just lied for your mom. He loves her. Something happened before you were born or after. I have this feeling that she didn’t cheat on him.”

“What are you saying?”

“Maybe I’m wrong but maybe your mom was in a bad situation and Rick stepped in to help because of her.”

“Rick,” said TJ, very quickly exiting back to the family room. “When did you meet my mom. If you ever want to speak to me again, if you want me to speak to her again, you’ll tell me the truth.”

Rick glanced to TJ’s mom, TJ smirking.

“You do care about her.”

“Of course I fucking care about her. I care about you too.”

“That’s great. I feel very cared for,” said TJ. Rick pursed his lips and his mom nodded. “Truth or I walk out that door and never come back.”

“I was married,” said TJ’s mom. “He was charming until he wasn’t. I got pregnant with you and you were born and he would get so angry at you for being a simple baby and crying and...I was so scared of him hurting you that I left. I had nothing and I stayed with a friend for a few days. I met Rick through them and he offered us a safe place to stay with him. It was only supposed to be short term but things developed. He is not perfect but he’s not the monster you think he is. We are safe and the reason you have all you do well and truly is because of him.”

“Do you have anything to say?” asked TJ quietly.

“I loved your mother before I loved you, that’s true. But I learned and I’ve done my best. You were far better off without me in your life. Look at what you have. You’d be angry and bitter if I had more of a hand in raising you. So you can hate me but you do not hurt your mother like that. You do not walk away from her after everything she has done for you. Understand me?”

“I need space from you,” said TJ, Rick nodding. “I also need something else.”

“What?”

“I still don’t understand why you took the money if you weren’t going to spend it.”

“Was gonna impress you, turn a profit on it, give it back with interest. Be like her father, give you some money for once.”

“Jensen doesn’t impress me because of money. Yes, their family doesn’t have to think twice about the cost of most anything. But Jensen, De, they don’t impress me for any reason other than how kind they’ve been to me. They treat me like their son, like I’m their own. They don’t pretend to. They don’t tolerate me for Y/N. They genuinely care about me, all because I fell in love with their daughter, a girl that’s not even theirs and they love her to death. The house is nice. The wedding was nice and so are the vacations. But I could live in a cardboard box and be happy if all I ever got was their kindness. They never made me work for it. They just gave it to me. You could have just given it to me and I would have been a happier kid. But you didn’t and now you have to work for it on my terms. So I want our money back and I want some space from you. If and when I’m ready to talk to you again, I’ll reach out. Alright?”

“Okay,” he said. TJ crossed his arms and nodded before he went outside. His mom followed after and you gave Rick a look. He pulled out his phone and tapped on it for a few moments before shoving it in his pocket. “It says it’s pending for that big of a transfer. It should be back in your account in a few days.”

“Oh I’ll make sure of that,” you said, walking over to him. “Rick. Maybe try some therapy if you really want to salvage this relationship.”

“You think I can afford that?” he said.

“We’ll pay,” said your mom. “Jensen and I will.”

“Why?”

“Cause he’s a fucking awesome kid and he deserves a relationship with you, even if we don’t like you,” she said.

“What about you? You hate me too kid?” he asked you.

“I can learn to tolerate and respect you. But you hurt him and I’ll protect him from anyone that does that, including you. But it’s not my forgiveness you need. It’s his so maybe try the therapy and let him come back if he’s ever ready for that, okay?”

“Alright.” You turned to go when he caught your shoulder. “Can I ask where the money came from? Jensen made it sound like you were behind on bills.”

“It made things tight for us. TJ and I have both been working side jobs nights and weekends to scrounge up extra money. We weren’t handed any of that money we gave you. We even took from ourselves and our children. Just because we live in a nice house doesn’t mean we don’t work for it,” you said. “Oh and one more thing. Touch my father again or call my mom slutty behind her back one more time, you’ll find out which one of us isn’t the good person in this relationship.”

“He what…” said your mom as you walked out, pulling her along behind you. “Dickhead!”

“Come on mom,” you said, pushing her back to the car. TJ gave his mom a nod and hug before he climbed back into the backseat.

“Slut my ass,” your mom mumbled under breath as she started the car back up. 

“Mom, let it go,” you said, shutting your eyes and slumping down in your seat.

“Put on your seatbelt,” she said. You reached up and put it on, turning back to catch TJ with his head leaned back. “You okay back there?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“That’s probably the right answer,” you said. 

“Let’s get back to dad. I’m sure he’s climbing the walls to get out of there by now.”

Two Days Later

“Howdy,” said your dad, taking a seat in the patio chair beside you as you watched TJ swim in your pool with Allie. “Where’s the babe?”

“Naptime,” you said, TJ tossing Allie up in the air and hugging her tight when he caught her again. 

“How’s he holding up?” he asked, reaching over and taking a chip out of the bag in front of you.

“Better than expected. He’ll give Rick another chance someday.”

“He said that?”

“No. I know Thomas though. He’s too good to hold onto that crap. It might not be for six months or a year but it’ll happen eventually.”

“Well I think he’s a dick,” said your dad. “But if TJ wants to give him a chance, we’ll give him a chance.”

“Thanks for being his dad too,” you said.

“I love the kid,” he said, throwing his arm over your shoulders. “So what are you two gonna do with all that money?”

“Pay off the last of the lawyer fees, pay off a big chunk of what’s left on the mortgage. When that set design comes in then we won’t owe too much more on the house,” you said. “Speaking of which, I gotta go to work on it.”

“Y/N? Use some of that money and take a nice vacation with the kids. Or even just a long weekend away for you and TJ.”

“We really ought to use it for stuff like the house,” you said. 

“Have you and TJ ever taken a vacation just the two of you?”

“Of course. We went on our honeymoon.”

“That doesn’t count. The answer’s no, isn’t it.”

“Dad, I don’t need-”

“Maybe you don’t but somebody in that pool needs to have some fun. Plan a little trip away next month,” he said.

“He’s always wanted to go to Mardi Gras,” you said with a smile.

“You guys would have a blast and I got some pull down there and all. Come on. Let me spoil my grandkids for a weekend.”

“Alright, alright. You’ve convinced me,” you said.

“You mind if the twins have dinner with you guys?”

“We’re actually going to the Pads for dinner. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind more though. You got a hot date?”

“Getting a private college tour with mom and JJ,” he said. “Ya’ll can stop growing up anytime you want you know.”

“She wants to live at home you know.”

“Really?”

“Contrary to her teenage angst as of late, she does love us. Just you know, drop the curfew like you did with me.”

“And we get texts when you stay out.”

“That’s what you thought,” you mumbled. He raised an eyebrow and you shrugged. “I let you know when I wouldn’t be home that night. You didn’t need to know my exact whereabouts.”

“When’s the first time you stayed over TJ’s?”

“Fall of Freshman year in his dorm,” you said.

“Never mind. I don’t need to know,” he said.

“Yup. Let her have fun when she gets there, she’s smart,” you said. “Plus you know she’ll call me if shit happens. Also she has a year and a half of high school left. Relax.”

“At least I know Tom will keep an eye on her too.”

“Already planning the wedding?” you smirked.

“Shut up,” he said, ruffling your hair. “Make sure he gets this.”

He dug into his back pocket and took out an envelope, handing it to you.

“Thanks,” you said quietly. “Dad?”

“Mhm,” he said as he stood. 

“Can you invite him on your fishing trip this weekend with grandpa?”

“Already did,” he said, nodding down at the envelope. “I’ll talk to you soon, tall munchkin.”

“Later dad,” you said, TJ giving him a wave as he headed out. You left the letter on the patio table and went over to the pool, slipping into the shallow end.

“Everything good?” he asked.

“Yeah. My dad left you a letter,” you said, Allie swimming off on her own, doing circles around TJ. He nodded and got out of the pool, drying off some before he went to the table and sat down. “Time for a snack.”

You scooped her up and swung her around in the water, throwing her up your hip. You walked out with her, setting her down to dry her off some. 

“Is daddy okay?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Why don’t you change back into some clothes and we’ll get Colin and snack time going.”

She rushed over to TJ and smiled up at him, TJ tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Daddy snack time!” she said.

“I’ll be inside in just a minute, sweetie,” he said. He leaned over and kissed her head, pushing her back towards you. You patted her inside, TJ rubbing his thumb over his lip as he read.

“Take your time, babe,” you said. You kissed his cheek and he nodded. “I’ll leave some tissues just inside the door in case.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Take all the time you need. I got these two,” you said. He nodded and smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Y/N.”

_________

A/N: Read the First Summer Timestamp here!

[keanureevesisbae]

The alluring charm of Henry Cavill - Chapter 1

Summary: Adelaide Park meets Henry Cavill for the first time and she is obviously very nervous. 

Henry Cavill x Adelaide Park (ofc)

Wordcount: 3.5k

A/N: If you want to be on the taglist, just let me know. And please let me know what you guys think. I’d love to hear your thoughts about it 😘 

Masterlist // Introduction // Next chapter

I’ve never been to Italy before. Actually, before I was a renowned actress, I never came outside of LA. Growing up, my parents never had the money to go to a different city, let alone other countries. My vacations were spend solely in our small one room apartment back in Los Angeles by myself.

My parents were never rich. My dad worked long hours in a factory every single day, but earning just enough money to pay the rent and for me and mom to eat. One night, I saw him scraping the packages or our plats clean, so he had something to eat as well. After I saw that, I never ate all the food off my plate, because I realized that my dad was working the hardest, but was eating the least.

It always broke my heart to see both of them struggle. My mom used to be a cleaning lady, but after she got fired, she became a live-in nanny, which basically meant that from my sixth birthday, she was barely home anymore and I had to raise myself.

Hours on end I was alone. Back in school I barely had any friends—correction: I had no friends at all—and when I came home from school, I’d sit outside to do my homework, because dad didn’t have enough money to get a second set of keys.

I never complained about it, because I knew they were trying and I learned all too well from that one time when I asked for a Barbie doll back when I was five and I kept crying about it, because other kids had Barbie dolls and I was the only one who didn’t. My mom got so mad, that she grabbed my empty plate and threw it against the wall, while she was screaming something about how ungrateful I was. Mom never got mad, she was always admirably calm and collected, even when life got in the way like it did with us. Seeing her like this, meant she was serious and I never said anything about something like that anymore. I never asked for anything, at all.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents and I am so thankful for everything they taught me and did for me. It may have been a hard time, but every year for my birthday, they gave me something. It was always something I really needed, but I always appreciated how they went out of their way for me, wondering how many meals they skipped for this present.

It all became worse when I finished high school at the age of nineteen. I was older than everyone else, since I read so slowly and didn’t even understand it most of the time, causing me to get behind on many classes over the course of the years. Besides, our school wasn’t known for having the best results overall, so the fact that I didn’t score well, meant I was blending in with the rest.

I was working in a diner, because I wasn’t smart enough at all for a scholarship, when my mom got in a terrible accident, when she walked back home and she was hit by a car who ran through a red light. She was paralyzed from her waist down and besides the high hospital bills, she also needed psychical therapy, something that unfortunately isn’t free.

With what my dad and I were earning together, we couldn’t even pay two percent of those costs. I was thinking about putting myself up on a sugar daddy website, but I know I couldn’t lie to them, when I would come back with a lot of money. Besides, my dad was always very strict about what mom and I could and couldn’t do to make money and sugar daddies were off limits. He told me multiple times—even after mom’s accident—that we had nothing to worry about. That he would take care of it.

But I had something to worry about, because my father wasn’t getting any younger. He had been working too hard for too long and all he wanted, was staying with his wife, who he still loved so so much, despite everything they had gone through. I took up more shifts at the diner, only slowly coming to terms that, even with the tips I was receiving, it was never enough to cover the bills.

In about two months, my mom would be discharged from the facility, if we hadn’t paid at least something significant.

One day, I was walking back home from work, when I saw a huge billboard, with a message that a studio was looking for someone to star in one of the biggest sitcoms of that time: Remembering High School. Apparently, one of the new main characters (who was an adult) was having a flashback from when they were in high school—the main premise of the show. And that character happened to be an Asian lady.

I went in and decided I would try it out. I mean, I had no acting experience and solely did it to earn some money, but being Asian American was apparently enough and that was the beginning of my acting career.

At first the amounts of money I made were not enough to cover the medical costs, but it was enough to delay further payment and my mom could stay in the facility.

For years I had difficulty with reading, let alone reading out loud, with an audience, but somehow on the set, I could forget about that. I could finally be someone I really wanted to be. For a few moments I could forget all the sorrows and worries I had resting on my shoulders.

The first five weeks, I’d combine my new acting career with my job in the diner, but after awhile I became a recurring character and for a whole year, I was part of the cast. I remember walking into my mom’s room, showing both her and my dad the first episode I was going to star in. ‘I’m from Minnesota,’ was my first line and the beginning of a very promising career.

My parents were so proud of me. My dad didn’t even care about the money I made at first, because he was so happy that I was doing something that from the looks of it, I actually enjoyed.

Over the years, I’ve come to love acting, but no one knows I do it because of my family. Actually no one knew about my family situation and since I have zero friends, even in the industry (because I barely talk about my personal life and I never budge, even when the try to pry information about it. My co-stars are acquaintances, almost like neighbors: you know one another, but you don’t know them), no one is aware that every penny I earn, goes directly to my family.

Nowadays I make millions, but I’m mainly spending it on my mom, but also on other people who are paralyzed and need psychical therapy, but were in the same boat as my family and my parents met over time in the facility. Money doesn’t mean a lot to me and these people can use it a lot better than I can.

Besides, my parents worked so hard for me growing up, this is the only way for me to pay them back. Despite not having any money themselves, nor stuff, they always taught me to share, to make sure that other people are well taken care off.

The flight from Japan to Italy moved along pretty quick, but maybe that’s because I was traveling first class. My latest movie took place in Japan and though I loved it there, I really want to see what Italy is like, after spending eight months in a lousy hotel in Japan.

After becoming an actress, I went to a lot of great places for shooting movies. I went to Suriname, Canada, Spain, Australia and this time it was Japan. I’m so blessed that I get to travel, knowing really well that other people are still struggling with what I used to struggle with. Sometimes I donate the earnings of a movie to movements that catch my eye, that help kids in certain areas of California with their school work, and with access of clothes and food. I always donate anonymously, not wanting to seem like a philanthropist who is doing this solely for her own image.

I always think that if you really care about something, you would do it without earning praises.

Participating on ‘The Celebrity Project’ wasn’t something I would normally do, but when they reached out to me, I was actually delighted that I was going to be part of this. Maybe I could finally show the world that I’m not as stupid as I appear in interviews.

Being a loner, a slow reader and probably has multiple learning disabilities (if I actually got tested, but the tests were too expensive and no one at school seemed to care and I’m actually too embarrassed to get myself tested now I’m a twenty-five year old), I often come off as an airhead and it’s my own fault really. I do give them enough stupid material to go on about that accusation.

However, I’m really nervous. I mean, I’m going to work together with Henry Cavill. He is charming and sounds so intelligent. When I was done filming and back at my hotel room, I’d watch his interviews, because I wanted to know what I was going to work with. The way he is so articulate and he obviously knows what he is doing, makes me feel even worse about myself. I’m a total disaster and already a burden to him I presume.

I’m sitting in a taxi, waiting for traffic to calm down a bit. It’s early in the mornings and thankfully I got to make myself a bit more presentable in the plane already. I notice the tiny camera’s being strategically placed in the car. It really begun, I think to myself. I’m part of a reality show now. ‘How are you feeling, miss Park?’ the taxi driver asks. ‘I recently heard about this program.’

‘I’m a bit nervous,’ I say, wondering whether or not he is payed to to talk to me about this. I rummage through my purse, hoping I can find my lip balm.

‘Are you looking forward to work with Henry Cavill?’

That name alone makes me nearly make me shit my pants already. ‘Yeah, he seems like a nice man, so I really look forward to work with him.’ And I sure as hell hope that I won’t let him down.

The drive to the hotel is about an hour, but it feels like time is going by a whole lot faster.  The chauffeur talks about his family and how his wife is actually a fan of my movies and has watched every single one of them. I took a few pictures with him and signed the inside of the cracker box, because that was all he got with him for me to write something on.

After I said goodbye to him, I’m told that I should go to room 346. With my suitcases with me, I step into the elevator, a cameraman close by. They told me that at one point, these cameramen would just be invisible to me, but I highly doubt it. They are only with us during the assignments. In the cars and at the place where we’re staying, the camera’s are hidden.

When I’m in front of the door, I take a deep breath.

I can do this I think to myself. I have starred alongside other talented people. My first real role was playing Keanu Reeves’ daughter, I was Angela Bassett’s assistant and I also had some pretty steamy scenes with David Castañeda, after his Umbrella Academy days. I can handle being around Henry Cavill, right? I knock on the door three times and I open it a bit, peeking my head around the door.

I can conclude that I’m severely underdressed. I’m wearing a simply jean short, white crop top with some lace on the borders and socks with the same lace details as my top, paired with white sneakers.

I look like a slob, compared to Henry, who seems like he stepped out of a Disney movie.  His white blouse, off-white pants and those loafers. The only thing that is missing, is his yacht with the name Serenity.

A smile creeps up on my face, as I step into the room, rolling my pink suitcases with me, because he actually looks approachable.

‘Hi there,’ he says with a small smile on his face. He walks up to me, holding out his hand. ‘I’m Henry, nice to meet you.’

I can’t help but blush. He is so charming and his accent makes him so posh. I place my hand in his and it almost disappears. Not to be that girl, but my size kink is activated right here and now. ‘Adelaide,’ I say. ‘Uhm, it’s nice to meet you… Too.’

I curse my tongue.

‘How was your flight?’ he asks, as he gestures to the couch for us to sit on.

I take place right next to him and I feel like a child sitting next to her dad. Why is he so massive? ‘It was okay. Yours?’

‘It flew by.’

I raise my eyebrows. ‘Was that… a pun?’

Henry chuckles nervously. ‘Maybe, I’m sorry.’

I look around me. The hotel room seems okay, but I bet we’re not going to stay here for long. I stare at the silver tray in front of us, with a set of keys and an envelope with our names on it.

Henry takes the envelope from the tray and holds it in front of me. ‘You want to read it?’

I shake my head. ‘No, you go.’ The whole idea of reading out loud without practice, makes me want to vomit. Before the table reads, I use this program that will read everything for me, even using the right intonation. I stay up for way too many hours for that, because once I’ve heard it, I made notes, I can better read it.

Back when I was doing ‘Remembering High School’ I had the woman who played the adult version of me read it to me, because I had to portray the young her and keep her character in mind. Since she was an established character on the show, she had certain ways of saying things I had to copy. She never knew the real reason I wanted her to read it out loud for me.

He cocks an eyebrow, but then opens the envelope. He clears his throat, before a dramatic reading of our first assignment rolls out of his mouth. How can he make a simple note sound so… Sensual, almost? His deep and dark voice, making it sound way more intense than it actually is. I wouldn’t mind if he read my scripts out loud for me.

‘Dear Adelaide and Henry, the adventure of ‘The Celebrity Project’ has officially started,’ he says, tilting the card a little, so I can read a little bit with him. It’s a nice gesture really and I appreciate the thought. ‘We have provided you with a nice car, to drive to the little cottage, specially arranged for the two of you. Tomorrow will be a nice day for you to relax (because you two are both severely jet lagged we presume) and the day after that, you’ll be expected for your first assignment. Enjoy the car ride and remember: look out of your window every now and then. We are aware that Henry is really handsome, Adelaide and you’ll be forced to only look at him, but nature can be beautiful too.’

I scrunch up my nose. That last sentence seemed so forced and this is exactly the reason why I don’t like these types of survival, borderline reality shows. It’s not reality. It’s this forced setting, hoping to get people to believe that this is how real life should look like.

And I don’t like deceiving people like that. I almost regret participating.

‘Right, well, we might as well just go,’ he says, his tone flat, maybe just as annoyed with that last sentence as I am. Probably even more so.

◎ ◎ ◎

Why is there a pink carseat in the passengers seat? I mean, I’m not the tallest, but I’m definitely not that tiny. I look around us, only to see no member of the crew around. This is great. I want to take the seat out, because I don’t want to sit on it, but it’s securely fastened and only with a different set of keys, I can undo it.

And of course I don’t have that.

I really regret being here.

However, I still sit on the carseat, because I don’t want to sit in the back because I’ll get carsick and when I see Henry’s cocked eyebrows and a poorly hidden smirk, I simply say: ‘Don’t.’

Okay, maybe I do understand why they put me on a carseat, because this man looks so enormous and otherwise I’m simply non existent. He starts the car and simply drives off. I don’t know whether or not I should say something to him, because I feel like we should talk.  I mean, that’s why the camera’s are here right?

‘What is your newest movie about?’ Henry asks.

‘About a woman escaping from her past and she moves to Japan, when one day an old friend becomes her new manager,’ I say.

‘Romantic comedy?’

‘Of course.’

He nods. ‘You don’t get tired of doing those?’ he asks.

Yes, I do get a bit tired of them, but there are two things: for starters, just like those romance books (that I would buy my mom one for her birthday every year, because I knew how much she loved those), romantic comedies sell really good. And no one wants me for something else. I feel like directors don’t trust me with big roles, like Rose in Titanic or someone else major. Besides, I’m Asian American, when was the last time one of us got a major part in a movie that’s not a romantic comedy?

But I don’t want to seem ungrateful and it’s a nice stream of money coming in every time and that’s basically all I want.

‘No,’ I say. ‘It’s okay. You shot something new… new movie… Right?’ For fuck sake, Adelaide, you were doing so well.

‘I did, actually,’ he says. ‘It’s something I’m very excited for. It’s more of a dramatical part.’ I listen to Henry, as he is talking about this movie. How he plays a single dad, trying to figure out this parenting part with his daughter, when his brother and sister-in-law pass away and he has to take in four monsters of boys in his house. The way he talks about this, I notice a shimmer in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologizes. ‘I let myself go there for a second. It’s just I’m really excited about this movie.’

‘No, I get it,’ I say, as I look out of the window. I let out a deep sigh, as we drive over the sandy roads. Before I can say something else (as if I knew what), Henry hits the break and like the cliches in the movies, he holds out his arm in front of me, as the car comes to a halt.

There are four dogs and one owner on the road and the man screams something in Italian to us. Clearly we were supposed to stop for him. ‘Shit, sorry,’ Henry mumbles, as if the man could hear that.

His warm hand dropped to my bare thigh and with my pointer finger I tap him on the back of his hand. ‘Excuse me,’ I say.

‘Oh no, terrible sorry,’ he says quickly, retracting his hand. ‘What do you think the cottage will look like?’ Henry asks, when he pulled up again, not driving as fast as he did before.

Shrugging I play with my water bottle. ‘I don’t know, but I think I know one thing.’

It takes me a while before I can get the words out of my mouth, but Henry doesn’t force me to say anything, by asking something like: ‘Care to let me in?’ He actually lets me find the words and it feels nice not to be rushed into saying something.

‘I bet there is one bed that is large and comfortable. However, there is also one uncomfortable couch, too small for you. So people want to see whether or not you are a… gentleman and offer to sleep on the couch.’

‘You think?’ he asks frowning. ‘A bit far fetched, don’t you think?’

When we arrive at the tiny cottage, we walk inside. It’s nice decorated, warm colors mixed with nice hints of different pastel colors. My eye falls on the very uncomfortable looking couch that is pretty tiny if Henry is supposed to be sprawled out on that, but we don’t know what the rest looks like.

After a small tour through the house, we have come to the conclusion that there is indeed only one bed. I look over my shoulder, my eyes meeting Henry’s. ‘See?’

Taglist: @thelastsock​ // @jolly-polly​ // @henrythickcavill​ // @maan24​ // @diegos-butt​ / @agniavateira​ // 

[crybabyjam]

ship: todochako 

rating: g

length: 3k

summary: Todoroki picks up hitch-hiker!Uraraka.

c/w parental death (past), joking about murder

deleted from twitter, written for a former friend

---

The sun beats down heavy as Ochako tightens the straps of her backpack. In it was three changes of clothes, some stale bread, her dead phone.

It was only mid-morning but already she was sweating her absolute ass off.

She runs her fingers through her choppy hair, uneven on one edge because she hadn't had a mirror when she'd taken a rusty pair of scissors to them. Now she wishes she'd just shaved it all off, if only to save herself from a sweaty, overheated neck now.

Her parents had loved it when she'd had long hair.

Ochako remembers how her mom would wash the long strands for her every weekend, even when Ochako huffed and puffed and said she could do it herself.

Her mom always took the time to wash it gently, and condition with something sweet smelling— "Because a sweet girl like you deserves sweet hair, too."

And how her dad would braid it every time she visited, even when Ochako would have to undo it the next day. He would take his strong, worker's hands and lift each length of hair carefully so that he didn't tug on her tender scalp.

Now that they were gone, Ochako didn't see the point in keeping her hair long. It just slowed her down. It just made her /sad/.

She sighs, and steps out of the way when a car plows through a puddle right beside her.

Her legs get soaked, but it isn't anything worse than the day prior, when a truck had soaked her from head to toe.

Ochako just sighs and brushes the muddy water droplets from her already dirty legs.

It's a good thing she was out of socks, or else she'd have to start worrying about her shoes molding at this point.

She's just begun kicking her shoe off, to finish the rest of the trek up to the next city barefoot, when a car pulls up to a stop beside her.

"Are you alright?" A low voice asks, to her left. Ochako startles and twists on her heel.

She almost ignores it, because cars like that didn't stop for hitch-hikers like her.

But the car follows her a few more feet as she slows to a stop.

When she looks over her shoulder, confused, the man in the car tilts his head at her and nods.

"Are you alright?" He repeats. "I saw you get wet."

"Ah!" Ochako yells, and then lowers her voice. Geez, where are your manners, Uraraka? "I'm fine! Sorry."

The man blinks, and Ochako belatedly notices that he has the most stunning, grey eyes. Like darkened silver.

"Why should you be sorry?" He asks with a frown.

And then, he shakes his head.

"Do you need a ride? It's dangerous to get in a stranger's car, but you shouldn't walk around barefoot. Glass would hurt." He pauses, and then adds. "Probably less than murder, but I promise not to murder you."

Ochako is speechless.

But not speechless enough not to /laugh/ at the absurdity of the stranger.

She feels it bubble up in her chest like boiling water, and it floats out of her ugly, like when a pot spills the water and burns on the stove burner.

The man just watches, silent, as she wipes tears from her eye and keeps on laughing. He just leans against the steering wheel and waits patiently, face completely deadpan.

He's /serious/, and that just makes it funnier.

She gasps for breath as she leans against his car, one shoe falling to the pavement and skipping beneath the undercarriage, shit.

Ochako's laugh starts up again as she drops to her knees to retrieve it.

When she comes back up, knees blackened by sidewalk dust, and hands darkened by asphalt, the man is smiling. Just barely.

"I guess murder /would/ hurt more than stepping on glass." She agrees. "Depending on the type of murder."

He murmurs the words underneath his breath, eyebrows furrowing.

"You're right," he says, troubled.

She leans into the rolled down window, arms crossing to hide the ripped hem of t-shirt.

"You sure you /promise/ not to murder me? I kind of need my life."

Well. All things considering, it was pretty much all she had left. She couldn't exactly afford the house after her parents died. They hadn't been able to finish the down payments, and none of them (including Ochako) had enough savings to keep her afloat.

So, hitch-hiking. Walking to nowhere and hoping for more.

A few miles in an air-conditioned car was more than what she had, so she'll take it.

The man turns serious, though. The smile wipes off of his face— not replaced with a frown, but replaced with another deadpan look. He nods his head, making eye-contact the entire time, and says,

"I promise not to murder you."

Well.

He promised, at least. Ochako still had a little bit of mace in her pocket, if she needed it.

So she gets in the car.

---

His name is Todoroki Shouto and he has an open duffle bag of yen, two pillows with embroidered pillowcases, a shattered phone, and a half-full photo album in his backseat.

Ochako stares at the photo album instead of the other three things, because she definitely does not want to get murdered, thank you very much.

He was a cute baby. Two-toned hair from birth, and big eyes that only had one expression: wide. Ochako traces her ragged thumb nail across one of the pictures, where he's covered in cake frosting at his second birthday, and accidentally creases the polaroid image.

She hurriedly flips the page.

"Are you hungry?"

"I'm fine," Ochako mumbles, ignoring her tummy which immediately begins to grumble in argument. She flips another page to muffle the noise, and comes across more empty pockets than full ones.

From the way there's the edge of one polaroid still caught in one of the slots, Ochako assumes that they used to be just as full as the rest.

She flips to the back, and a roll of film flops into her lap.

"Do you even still have a camera for this?" Ochako asks, holding the strange, almost novel-looking thing up to the waxing light of the returning sun. Then she brings it back down to the shadows in case that might ruin the film inside, oops.

"At home," Todoroki says, low. Her shoes are in his lap, because he wanted her to have more room to look at the photo album. Ochako had tried to just place them on the floor of the car, but he looked so earnest in his offer that she hadn't been able to say no without feeling bad.

Besides, she had a feeling he was pretty harmless. Weird, but who wasn't?

"Oh, are you moving or something?" Ochako asks, and then immediately grimaces at the invasion of privacy. "I mean… 'cause of the stuff in your backseat."

"Moving…" Todoroki repeats, focusing on the road. They're driving slow enough that almost everyone passes by them, but Ochako got pretty motion-sick so she appreciated it.

Todoroki leans back in his seat, both hands at the very apex of the steering wheel. It's outlined in a leather cover and is so shiny that it almost looks metallic. Expensive as fuck, probably.

Everything about him looked pretty expensive, actually. The car was brand new, from this year. Still had the new smell and everything.

Ochako was actually pretty glad he insisted on the shoe-thing, if only to prevent mud stains.

Although his pants /did/ look pretty designer. Ah, fuck.

"Yes," Todoroki says, after the long moments of silence. "I'm moving."

"Oh! That's… fun. That's fun!" Ochako nods.

Todoroki turns them off of the road, and pulls into a parking spot. Ochako blinks past the raindrops on her side of the window, and squints out at the illuminated signs.

A restaurant. Ah, /fuck/. Ochako pats her shorts for her wallet, as if she could even /pretend/ it had money in it. All it had was her ID (almost expired) and a coupon for leg waxing.

"Do you want to come in with me?" Todoroki asks, turning to her completely. The seatbelt gets caught, and it does that thingy it does where it locks and gets tighter until you take it all the way off. He doesn't seem to mind.

Ochako smiles, though even she can feel how strained it is. "Ah, I'm fine. I should probably go actually, but thank you for the ride. The rain should stop soon, so…"

"Oh."

Todoroki frowns, glancing at the arm rest between them. He's engaged the parking brake even though they aren't on an incline, and Ochako's smile relaxes to something more real.

"It was really nice to meet you," she says. "I'd give you my phone number but I kinda didn't pay the bill." (Since, uh, last year, but he didn't need to know that.)

"It was nice to meet you too," Todoroki says. "I can buy you food."

"Oh," Ochako parrots, dumbly. Her eyes dart to the yen-bag and she hurries to shake her head. "I couldn't—"

"I don't mind. It's my dad's money— and he hates me. And I hate him, so." Todoroki finally takes off his too-tight seatbelt and it rattles noisily as it smacks against the car door.

"I…"

Ochako isn't sure how to approach /that/ particular landmine. Nor is she sure how she's supposed to resist free food. When had she last eaten. Two days ago, or something? She'd kinda been ignoring it, but the walking helped.

Now that she's technically resting, she can feel her tummy about to throw a conniption.

Todoroki blinks his wide eyes at her as he waits, not making a move. His blinks are slow, like a cat, and his eyes flicker back and forth between her own.

She sighs heavily, but a grin is already parting her lips. "You're a strange one, Todoroki."

"Am I?"

"I don't have any money, so you have to pay for all of it," she warns.

"I will."

"And I eat a lot! I haven't eaten in a while."

"Okay."

"And… and I want my shoes back."

Todoroki hands her the shoes. There's mud residue on his pants and the bottom of his shirt.

But he has a small smile on his face as he watches her struggle to put her shoes on in the closed space, so maybe it was alright.

---

Shouto watches as Uraraka stuffs two donut holes in her mouth, licking away the powdered sugar that paints across her lips. It looks like snow when it dusts down to her shorts, and smears chalky residue on her thighs.

He hands her a napkin, and she blushes pretty like a sunset paints ocean water pink when it sets at night.

"Sorry for the mess," she says quietly.

"It's okay. Is it good?"

"It's good!" She wiggles in her seat, and it reminds Shouto of a really happy hamster. "Do you want some?"

She's very beautiful. Her hair is cut in a way he's never really seen before, but it frames her face nicely. He likes it more than his almost-bowl cut. Some of her hair tickles across her shoulder, but she ignores it as she holds a donut hole out to him with a toothpick.

She keeps holding it as he bites down on the warm, cooked dough. He'd never really been fed by someone before. Well, as a baby— sure. But he had a feeling this was different. Was it different?

Shouto chews thoughtfully, and Uraraka smiles at him. She doesn't seem to mind feeding him. She stabs another one with the same toothpick and holds it out for him again, one hand underneath to catch the crumbs.

"Yummy, right? Thanks for buying them! I'll…" She flinches, interrupting herself. Her smile dims a little, like she'd lost power. "I'd offer to pay you back but, uh… ahaha, you know?"

Shouto /doesn't/ know, but he nods anyway. "I can buy you more," he says, soft. "You can take them with you. When you leave."

She uses the toothpick to prod and poke at the remaining few donut holes. They roll in the leftover powdered sugar at the bottom of the box.

"I'll be alright. But thank you." Her eyes get watery at the bottom lashes, and Shouto frowns. "You've been really kind."

When she laughs next, it's thick like she's close to sobbing. Her voice is shaky. Shouto doesn't like it- liked it much better when she was laughing /happily/ instead.

"Thanks for not murdering me," she adds. "This is probably the most fun I've had in a while."

"You can stay. I can drive you anywhere you want."

"Oh!" Uraraka jumps in her seat, as if he'd yelled it. He hadn't really spoken any louder than before, but he clears his throat and speaks even softer anyway.

"We just met, but I can take you anywhere you need to go. And I have enough money for the both of us. I really enjoy your company."

They're pulled off at an empty lot near a supermarket. Somewhere off in the distance is a park. The children there are loud, voices echoing in the evening ambiance.

Uraraka looks out towards the noise, but he can see her swallow heavily.

"That's kind of dangerous, isn't it? We just met."

She says it like how she says other things that are meant to be teasing. He nods anyway.

"It is. You can drive, if that makes you feel better. Or you can sit in the backseat. I would have bought a bigger car if I knew I would meet you today."

She laughs again, starting with a snort and ending with a giggle. It makes his heart beat faster in his chest, and he isn't sure if he's nervous or happy to hear it.

"What if /I'm/ the murderer?" Uraraka stabs one of the donut holes and brings it up to her mouth. She smiles at him when he frowns, and then smiles wider when he shrugs.

"If it happens, it happens."

"/Todoroki/." She slaps her palm against her forehead and sinks down in her seat. "That's the most dangerous mindset I've ever heard."

"I'm sorry?" He glances down at her the further she sinks, but she doesn't seem particularly angry. It looks like she's fighting, but on the inside. "It's not that dangerous."

"It's pretty dangerous."

She brushes her legs clean. Sits up straight and looks out the window again. Her breath fans out across the glass, fogging it.

He rolls the window down for her, and she does that snorting laugh again.

"You're a funny guy, Todoroki."

"Am I?"

"You are." Uraraka shifts in her seat, to pull her legs cross-crossed. There's one donut hole left in the box, and she rolls it around a few more times before she pokes it with that same toothpick and shoves it in her mouth.

As she chews, she glares at him. Almost like she can't see him and needs glasses. He leans in closer so that she can find what she's looking for.

"You're funny in both ways. Weird… but you make me laugh."

She closes up the box, fitting the toothpick between her teeth so that she can absently chew on it.

"So you're… 'moving'," she says, finally. "- and I don't have a home anymore. Where would we even go?"

Shouto glances past the parking lot, at the semi-distant street that is starting to pile with traffic after a brief lull. But his eyes inevitably drag back over to her.

Uraraka stares back, cheeks pink. A small smile grows on her face. She runs her fingernail across the edge of the empty donut box. He'd have to figure out a place to recycle it if he could.

There are so many places they could go. Somewhere warm, towards a beach. Or somewhere quiet, with wide hills and short buildings. To a festival. To a shoe store.

"Everywhere?"

"/Everywhere/?" Uraraka shakes her head, exasperated. "What about when we run out of money?"

Shouto shrugs. Uraraka laughs again. Her hand drifts to the middle console, palm up, and Shouto watches it for a while.

Then she leans over to grab his hand. Her fingers are warm, rough at the tips but soft everywhere else. She would look pretty in nail polish. /Prettier/, rather- if it were possible.

He maybe had a crush on her. Was this what love felt like? Soft hands and warm smiles? He liked it.

"I-"

She interrupts by leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. It's soft, like a feather landing on snow. "Take me everywhere, then. And then I'll give you my answer."

Shouto, dazed, touches his fingers to his cheek. He forgets to stop holding her hand, so hers come along with it. She doesn't seem to mind. "Your answer?"

"On whether or not I'll stay," she says, cheeky. "So you'd better make it a fun ride."

Shouto squeezes his other hand down on the steering wheel, if only to keep his heartbeat in his veins so that the organ doesn't leap out of his chest and act a fool. He accidentally steps on the gas, and the car revs in protest.

Uraraka laughs again. She tightens her hold on his hand and pulls it back down between them. He squeezes it back.

And when they get back on the road again, fifteen minutes later, Uraraka has gone from laughing to singing loud to the radio and dancing in her seat. She's pure joy.

---

It stops raining, and the world feels brighter.

[nebulousfishgills]

Yours

Request by: Anonymous - Can I do an anonymous request for a Loki x reader where he returns to the reader after a few years and he is surprised to see that she has a child, but it turns out it is his child he didn’t know about.

Thanks for the request! I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Mild angst, I guess?

ฯฯฯ

"How was school today, (D/N)?" You asked, carefully looking at your five year old daughter in the rear-view mirror. She looked at you with her bright green eyes and a wide grin. Her front tooth was missing, the beginnings of her new tooth starting to poke out from her gums.

"Good! We read a Curious George book and talked about colors!" Your daughter said enthusiastically.

You smiled, crinkling your tired eyes. "Do you have a favorite color?"

"I like yellow."

"Yellow's a very pretty color."

You turned into your neighborhood, scanning the street signs to find yours. It was a brief moment of quiet before (D/N) spoke again.

"Miss Amy also said Parents Day is soon. She sent this home for you to look at." She said.

You only slightly paled at your daughter's words as you pulled into the driveway and took the envelope from (D/N)'s hands. Parents Day was a day in mid September where the parents could come into the class and their child could show them what they were learning. They could ask questions to the teacher about how the children were being taught.

"It's on Friday? At noon?" You half asked to yourself. Gently, you turned around in your seat to face your daughter with a sad smile. "(D/N), I have to work that day. I don't think I can go."

(D/N) frowned and slightly slumped in her seat.

"You can never go to anything." She sighed. It crushed you to see her so sad.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I've already missed too many days for when you or I get sick. I can take you out for frozen yogurt that afternoon, though. Would that be okay?" You asked, biting your lip.

"I guess. I wish Daddy were here." (D/N) sighed.

"Me too, kiddo." You said, getting out of the car and shutting the door. She followed suit, dragging her Minnie Mouse backpack on the pavement behind her. "Me too."

You had seen the other parents' glances whenever you dropped (D/N) off at kindergarten in the morning. It was mostly mothers who dropped off their kids, so you coming in alone wasn't totally abnormal. Though it was like High School all over again: cliques of girls whispering about you in groups of three or four while glancing at you with pursed lips. Being a single parent was the abnormal thing. Your town was small, so gossip spread like wildfire.

"...Got knocked up by some foreign guy."

"...Left her to pursue an art career."

"...He left town as soon as she told him he was pregnant."

You honestly didn't know how some of those rumors spread. People's imaginations were limitless, you figured. Well, the detail about the father being "some foreign guy" wasn't too far off. But you couldn't really say the father was an actual god, they'd think you were crazy for sure. So, you let the rumors spread and eventually they had less and less effect on you. The side glances didn't exactly make you feel good, though.

You entered the small house, following (D/N) inside. She put her backpack on the hook and sat at the kitchen table.

"Do you want something to eat?" You asked. She nodded and you went to rummage around in the pantry for something. (D/N) wasn't particularly picky about her snacks. You settled on a half empty bag of pretzel sticks and poured some into a bowl. (D/N) took it and started to go up the stairs. "Remember, clean up your crumbs."

Once you heard her door close, you pulled a (favorite soda/seltzer) out of the fridge and sat at the table, resting your head in your hand with a sigh. You wanted to go to the parent night, you really did. But it wasn't worth risking your job over. Your boss already made it hard for you because she knew your situation. She was the type of person who believed in marriage before children and gave you your work with a slightly disgusted glance every day. This was your life, and the sooner you accepted that, the better.

There was a quick knock at the front door that shook you out of your thoughts. Sighting, you stood up to get it. You hoped it wasn't your nosy neighbor, always offering to babysit (D/N) because "there's only one you and I can make it easier." She always asked for a ridiculously high payment that you couldn't afford along with the offer. Luckily, you had most of the weekends off and (D/N) went to full day kindergarten on the weekdays.

"For the last time, Donna, I don't need your charity babysi-" you started as you opened the door, but abruptly cut yourself off. It wasn't your neighbor, or your mom that brought you pies sometimes, or the Amazon guy for that matter.

"Loki?" You asked, eyes wide. Sure enough, there was your estranged ex boyfriend. He nervously picked at the pilling green sweater he wore, barely meeting your eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I... Well..." Loki stuttered, biting his lip. You sighed and opened the door wider.

"Get in and pull yourself together." You said cooly. Loki nodded as he slowly entered the house, sitting on the edge of the sofa like there were needles poking out of the back cushion. You sat down next to him with your arms folded.

"I'm sure you're very angry with me." Loki started.

"What gave you that impression? My folded arms, my tone, or the fact that you've been gone for five years?" You snapped.

"(Y/N), I can explain-"

"You left me, Loki. In the middle of the night, no explanation. Just a note on the pillow saying that you love me and how much it hurt that you just had to leave right then. You didn't think that maybe explaining it to me when I was awake would be a better idea? No, because you just had me wake up the next morning with no you and a half assed note. So, yeah, I'm angry!" You yelled, not even trying to hold back.

"I know, and I'm so sorry. It's just... I was scared-" Loki tried to apologize.

"Scared? Of what? Loving a mortal? I thought that it didn't matter to you." Your tone started to form into a more hurt one than anything.

"No, it's not that." Loki said.

"Well, then what is it?"

"I was scared for you, your safety. I've done wrong in the past, my darling, and I've had people hunting for me, bad people. I didn't want you to get swept up in it. That was part of the reason why I left. But I wanted to figure out how to fix it. I always intended to come back, but not until I was sure we were safe." Loki explained. You sat in silence, considering his words.

"Well, you can't expect to be able to waltz back into my life like nothing happened." You said in a tone that probably didn't fit the words you were saying. A sympathetic tone with harsh words.

"I didn't expect to."

"Mama, I heard you yelling.... Mama, who is that?" You jumped at the sound of your daughter having come back down the stairs. You cleared your throat, trying to find the right words.

"Uh... Well..." You spluttered. "He's..."

"Have I been gone long enough for you to find the comfort of another man?" Loki didn't sound angry, rather he sounded sad.

"No, there's been no one else. (D/N), come here please." You said. Timidly, the little girl climbed into your lap and watched the strange new man intently. "(D/N), this is your daddy."

Both Loki and (D/N) looked at you in surprise.

"I found out a week after you left. She's your daughter. She has your eyes." You said shyly. "She's yours."

(D/N) took a second to process the information before giggling. She lept out of your lap and into Loki's arms. He caught her with an "uff" from the impact. He looked at the little girl carefully and did notice her eyes were the same shade of green as his. He felt a sort of familial bond with her as she hugged him tightly.

"Now that you're here, Mama can go to Parents Night!" She said enthusiastically.

"(D/N), slow down, he just got here." You laughed. "And we still have to figure things out. I still work, you know."

"Oh, right. Well, at least I have a daddy now!"

"If you'll have me back?" Loki asked you. You looked from Loki to the daughter you shared clutching him like a koala bear. You sighed and smiled. (D/N) needed her father, more than you wanted to admit. And you still loved him more than you wanted to admit.

"I can't forgive you right away, but we can build it back up." You agreed. "But in the future, just talk to me, okay?"

"Of course, my darling." Loki said, kissing your temple lightly.

ฯฯฯ

Hope you enjoyed this, Nonnie!

Requests are open! Rules and characters are on the pinned post on my profile!

[i-bounced-byeeee]

I go to bed early because I'm depressed. My mom is venting to me about how she feels like she's her sense of independence and self sufficiency because she couldn't afford to make payments on the car (she found out after one payment was missed that my step-dad wasn't making the payments.)

That she's depressed because she had to rely on someone else to get her a vehicle to use to drive to her jobs, and while she can use it whenever she wants there's a disconnect because she doesn't own it.

And I was doing my best to be sympathetic and compassionate but it was honestly getting hard because I've felt this way since I moved to VA with my ex.

Even though I don't live in VA with him anymore I still feel like I don't have independence or self sufficiency because ever since then I've had to rely on someone to help me financially, I've had to rely on someone to take me to and from places. Whatever plans I make I have to work around someone else's schedule.

She tried to say I never had that kind of independence and self sufficiency, but I have. When I lived in Texas I had my own place with my then husband and brother. My son had his own bedroom. I was able to walk places if I wanted to, before even that I was able to work and take the bus to and from work when I was 17 and pay for my own stuff. Then I moved to VA and I tried to get a job, but no one would hire me, my husband at the time also worked and went to school on top of that so I'd never have a ride to work, not to mention we had no one to watch Lucian while we'd both be working.

I was stuck inside the apartment everyday and became so depressed i could barely take care of myself and my son. The only reason I got the guys to leave was because I found out he was sneaking into my messages and reading them. At my dad's I felt like I got some of it back, ibwas going to class to get my High School Equivilancy, I took a bus twice a week in the morning to town so i could do this.

My ex was sending me money that I needed to get things for myself and my son, so I didn't have to ask my dad and stepmom for help as often. I came to CO to stay with my mom when the Pandemic hit because everyone at my dad's started to get hard to be around. Everyone was angry all the time and I couldn't handle it, I was lonely because no one would hang out with me anymore and I didn't have good enough internet to do stuff online with my friends.

And at first everything was okay, i could walk places if I needed to, i started helping my mom with petsits on the weekend.

Then I had a stroke. So walking places became difficult and still is, I wasn't able to work for a while because of it, and then everything got worse when my step-dad had to stop working because of his back.

Now I feel like I can't express my feelings, because when I do I feel like my mom gets upset and irritated with me. Earlier I said I wasn't sure if I wanted to wait for everyone to go to bed to do a thing I've started doing or if I just wanted to lie down and go to bed. She got upset and stormed off when I said that and called me an hour later to ask what I was doing.

I was sleeping and she sounded upset by even that.

Idk what to do. I kind of hate living here but I don't want to go back to my dad's either because I know for sure the school there won't be able to accommodate Lucian, not to mention how hard it'd be for him to adjust to a new school, teacher, routine, and curriculum. I don't know what to do.

[limjaeseven]

The Boyfriend Dilemma

Pairing: Jaebeom X Jinyoung

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2,896

Warning(s): JJP being cute as hell, fake dating!au

Summary: Jinyoung had lied to his mum about having a boyfriend. What does he do when she asks him to bring said boyfriend over for Christmas dinner?

[a/n]: I know I’m a bit late but here it is, this fic was lots of fun to write so I hope you enjoy it! Written for @ksmutclub​‘s ‘Under the Mistletoe’ project.

Christmas Eve was usually a calm night in for Jinyoung, spent curled on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate and a good book. That was until his mother called him, asking him to come for dinner on Christmas with his boyfriend. He was eternally grateful that his mother couldn’t see the way he cringed on the other side of the line as she mentioned his love life. You see, there was a small issue, Jinyoung didn’t really have a boyfriend.

Jinyoung’s mother had always wanted Jinyoung to find a good man and settle down, having come to terms with her son’s attraction towards men a long time ago, she just hated the idea of her son being lonely, without someone to look after him. The thought wasn’t unfounded, Jinyoung was known to work late nights, get little to no sleep and go for days without bothering to eat properly. His mother only knew of one out of the four incidents on Jinyoung ending up in the hospital due to exhaustion after he had left home for college.

She kept asking him if he had found anyone, setting him up for dates with her friends’ sons when he graduated college without having been in a relationship even once. It wasn’t even like Jinyoung wasn’t interested in being in a relationship or guys weren’t into him, he just hadn’t found the one for him and regardless of whether he sounded childish or not, he hoped to find true love, or at least a man who he would want to spend the rest of his life with.

After four years of constant nagging and pretty bad dates, Jinyoung finally decided he was done with all the nagging and lied to his mum about being in a relationship. He was smart enough to not reveal too many details about his imaginary boyfriend, because he knew eventually his mum would ask him to bring the boy home and he would have to strategically plan a fake breakup before that but he didn’t expect her to call him over for Christmas, since his parents were usually working through the holiday.

“But Jinyoung, your dad and I took a day off just so we could meet your new boyfriend, we thought Christmas would be the one opportunity where you both would be off from work and could drive over” And despite how hard he tried, his mum didn’t let up. He couldn’t fake a breakup, he had just told her that his relationship was going strong a week prior, which meant he would either have to come clean to his mom or try something else.

Jinyoung would have scoffed at the idea of hiring a date, he actually had once when he saw an ad for what was basically an escort service disguised as a date-for-hire app on TV. Little did he know that not months after that ordeal he would be sitting on his bed on Christmas Eve, looking through a catalogue of good looking men, trying to pick one to be his fake boyfriend to appease his mum.

The options weren’t bad, there were a few men there he felt genuinely attracted to, but they were all either too nerdy or too bad boy looking for what he had described to his mum. Unfortunately, Jinyoung had gotten a bit too carried off by his description of his fake boyfriend and had described more of his dream man, one Jinyoung knew he would never find, to his mum.

That was till his eyes landed on the name ‘Lim Jaebeom’ accompanied by the photo of a man pulled right out of his wet dreams. He had long, black hair that brushed his shoulders, dressed in a designer suit with a face to match. His eyes were alluring, the two moles above his left eye too perfect to be real. Jinyoung pinched his arm, wincing at both the pain and the realisation that he was not, in fact, dreaming.

Clicking through to his profile, Jinyoung read through the man’s likes and hobbies listed and wondered if he was high, because it felt like the man he had described to his mum had been brought to life. The rates were low enough for Jinyoung to be able to afford the man for a night, and even though he couldn’t believe that he was hiring a ‘date’, one look at Jaebeom’s photo made him forget all those thoughts, and all that filled him was the anticipation.

Once he made his payment, he was given the option to chat with Jaebeom in order to discuss the date. Clicking the link he was provided, he stared at the text box for ten minutes before sending a ‘hey’, his hands shaking as he saw the word ‘typing’ linger at the bottom of the screen.

Jaebeom: Hey Jinyoung, how can I help you?

Jinyoung: So, this is kinda embarrassing but I lied to my mum about having a boyfriend and now she’s asked me to bring him home for Christmas dinner so I panicked and hired you to be my fake boyfriend for a night :/

Jaebeom: Don’t worry Jinyoung, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to be someone’s fake boyfriend, we should quickly go over what you’ve already told your mum about your ‘boyfriend’ first and work from there

Jinyoung: This is super weird but like somehow everything I told her about ‘him’ was listed in your likes and hobbies, like a love for music and cats. All I told her is I met ‘him’, or in this case you, at a café where you worked, you wrote your number on my cup and I texted you and we started dating

Jaebeom: Okay, at least I don’t have to pretend like I know anything about stock markets or something

Jinyoung: You’ve had to do that before?

Jaebeom: Oh yeah, some girls I’ve accompanied lied about dating a rich CEO and I had to borrow my friend’s Gucci suit for it, that was interesting

Jinyoung: Sounds like it

Jaebeom: Is there anything else I should know?

Jinyoung: Beware of my mum, she will ask a lot of questions, just go with the flow. Also wear an ugly sweater, my mum is big on Christmas traditions

Jaebeom: I don’t think I have any ugly sweaters, I’ll have to get one. How about I get us a matching pair? She might like that

Jinyoung: You are a genius Jaebeom, I’ll pay you for the sweater, just come here by 6pm so that I have enough time to get ready and we can drive over to my parents’ in time

Jaebeom: Will do, also don’t worry about paying, that’s on me

Jinyoung: But

Jaebeom: No buts, it’s getting late, you should sleep some, we can discuss any other details tomorrow

Jinyoung: Okay fine, good night Jaebeom

Jaebeom: Good night Jinyoung

It was past noon when Jinyoung woke up the next day, his brain deciding to oversleep on the one day he would have liked to wake up early and get ready properly. Jinyoung managed to get out of bed in time for lunch, taking a long bath in preparation for dinner, mentally preparing himself for what was about to come.

Jaebeom had texted him in the morning, asking for his address, which Jinyoung sent him, accompanied by an apology for his delayed response. They texted back and forth for a bit, engaging in normal small talk before Jaebeom signed off to head to the mall to buy the aforementioned sweaters.

At precisely six o’clock, Jinyoung’s doorbell rang, revealing a man about a thousand times more gorgeous than the photo Jinyoung had seen on the app, standing at his doorstep. He swallowed visibly, his throat suddenly parched, as Jaebeom stood there, dressed in a pair of black trousers, a white t-shirt and a long, brown coat, holding a bag in his hand.

“Come in” Jinyoung said, barely managing not to stutter, as he welcomed Jaebeom inside his apartment. Somewhere in the back of his mind was a voice calling him dumb to allow a stranger inside his house but something about Jaebeom just pulled Jinyoung in and clouded his judgement. Jaebeom slipped off his oxfords, extending the cover in his hand to Jinyoung as he settled down on the couch. Confused for a moment, Jinyoung quickly realised that the bag probably contained the sweaters Jaebeom had been tasked to buy.

“I said UGLY Christmas sweaters, not cat sweaters, we can NOT wear these.” Jinyoung exclaimed in horror as he examined the pastel blue and pink coloured sweaters the man had bought, adorned with large cats and the words ‘Meowy Christmas’ in calligraphy font on the front. Jaebeom smiled sheepishly as he got up from his seat and made his way to Jinyoung, grabbing the blue sweater from his left hand.

“They didn’t have any ugly sweaters at the mall that I actually liked, and these were too cute to say no to” Jaebeom made his best puppy eyes at Jinyoung, causing the younger to groan.

“I can’t believe this, my sisters will not let me live this down” Jaebeom just pouted, taking off his coat to pull the sweater over his head. Jinyoung would be lying if he said he didn’t ogle at Jaebeom’s biceps flexing as he changed his clothing. When caught staring by Jaebeom, he promptly turned around, clutching the garment in his hand to his chest and running inside to put it on, but mostly to calm his beating heart down.

Jaebeom was unnecessarily attractive, and that was not good for Jinyoung’s heart because he didn’t want to develop a crush on a dude he paid to spend the night with, even though Jinyoung knew it was too late, he had already formed a soft spot for the man’s warm smile and adorable pout. Pulling on the pink sweater, Jinyoung checked himself out in his bedroom mirror, admitting to himself that it actually looked rather cute on him.

“Shall we get going?” Jinyoung asked as he stepped back out into the living room, to which Jaebeom nodded, grabbing his car keys and walking Jinyoung out of his apartment. The two settled into Jaebeom’s car, Jinyoung feeding his parents’ address into the GPS system in Jaebeom’s car to guide them to their destination.

“So, any nicknames or that sort of thing you want to talk about, you know, to convince your parents that we actually know each other and didn’t meet each other for the first time like half an hour ago?” Jaebeom turned to Jinyoung just to guage his reaction before turning back to the road.

“Well the website said you were born in jan 1994, meaning you’re older than me, so how about hyung?” Jaebeom nodded, thinking for a moment before replying.

“Hyung is fine with me, what about you? Are you comfortable with Jinyoung-ah or would you want something more cutesy like Jinyoungie or Nyoungie?”

“Honestly I’m fine with anything, like I said, go with the flow. I haven’t told my mum enough for most anything for you to say to sound too suspicious. Just be yourself, your profile said you like music, talk about that, maybe” They talked a bit about themselves for the rest of the drive, sharing crucial information required to make it look like they know each other well.

Jinyoung sighed as he stood in front of his parents’ house, the reality of the situation finally hitting him. Sensing Jinyoung’s discomfort, Jaebeom offered the boy a warm smile, waiting for him to ring the bell to alert Jinyoung’s parents of their arrival. After five minutes of Jinyoung trying to calm himself down, he finally mustered enough courage to reach over to press the doorbell.

“Oh Jinyoungie, you’re finally here! Come in, come in” Jinyoung’s mother greeted them, welcoming them inside their house. Jaebeom looked around for a moment, admiring the classy furniture of the house covered in brightly coloured tinsel and other Christmassy accoutrement.

“Mom this is Jaebeom, my boyfriend” Jinyoung signalled to his mother, who smiled at Jaebeom, wrapping him in a warm hug. She dragged them to the living room, sitting them down on the couch before calling Jinyoung’s father and sisters from the kitchen to join them.

“Nice sweater, Nyoung” Jinyoung’s elder sister snickered, causing Jinyoung to hit her arm lightly before turning to his mom.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Jaebeom. I was worried our Jinyoungie would never find himself a man, but now that you’re here I feel relieved that he finally has someone in his life”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs Park. Jinyoung talks a lot about you”

“Oh please, no need for the formalities, call me mom. I’m sure he talks about how I nag him all the time, doesn’t he” Jaebeom chuckled as the loud groan from Jinyoung’s end.

“Absolutely not, he talks about how much he loves you, he knows you worry about him” Jinyoung’s mom smiled at that, reaching ruffle her hand through her son’s hair.

“So how long have you two been dating?” Jinyoung’s oldest sister asked.

“Three months”

“Four months”

Jinyoung and Jaebeom said at the same time, causing a look of confusion to cross over Jinyoung’s family’s face. Before Jinyoung could come up with a lame excuse, Jaebeom placed his warm hand reassuringly on Jinyoung’s thigh and addressed his parents.

“We went out together for the first time four months ago, which I thought was a date but Jinyoung thought was us just ‘getting to know each other’. According to him we only started dating three months ago, it’s something we fight about all the time”

“That sounds like my son, oblivious and stubborn” Jinyoung’s father commented.

The rest of the night went by pretty smoothly, a few slips here and there covered up quickly by Jaebeom. They sat next to each other at the dinner table, Jaebeom’s hand resting on Jinyoung’s thigh throughout, as a way to reassure the younger that Jaebeom was here for him.

“It’s time for the mistletoe photos, this is the first time I’ll get one of Jinyoung kissing his boyfriend!” Jinyoung stiffened, as he turned to Jaebeom, realising that he would have to kiss the elder. Squeezing the elder to signal his apology, Jinyoung guided the elder to where the mistletoe had been hung in the living room, Jinyoung’s father bringing out the old polaroid camera to click a picture. Jinyoung stood there for a moment, too nervous to actually kiss the elder, till Jaebeom gave in, placing his hands on either side of Jinyoung’s face and placing a chaste kiss on the younger’s lips.

It was like a lightning bolt had hit Jinyoung, a shiver ran down his spine at the touch of just their lips, causing him to chase Jaebeom’s lips as they split from his own. Jinyoung’s father handed them one of the two photos he clicked, the other going straight to Jinyoung’s mother’s collection.

By the end of the night, they were all happy and exhausted. Jinyoung didn’t want to leave but he reluctantly let go of his mom because he had to go to work the next morning and Jaebeom probably had work too. Just as they were about to leave, Jinyoung’s mother pulled him aside to talk to him privately.

“You know, Jaebeom is a pretty nice boy, I like him a lot”

“I’m glad you like him mom, I like him too”

“If you do you should actually ask him out”

“What!?”

“You think I wouldn’t know when my son was lying to me? He looks at you like I look like your dad Nyoung, I’m pretty sure you both barely know each other but I think you should give him a shot if he’s interested, you two seem perfect for each other” Jinyoung merely groaned and hid his face in his palms as he lamented at his unsuccessful attempt to fool his mum. He did agree with her though, he would like to actually go out with Jaebeom, hopefully with Jinyoung paying for his meal instead of his time. Promising to call her soon, Jinyoung grabbed a hold of Jaebeom’s hand, guiding him to the car.

The drive back home was quite, comfortably so. Jinyoung looked out the window, thinking back on the few hours he had spent with Jaebeom and the many more he wants to spend with him. When they arrived back at Jinyoung’s place, the younger looked over at Jaebeom, before closing his eyes and leaning in. Half expecting to be rejected, Jinyoung jumped when Jaebeom’s lips met his halfway, and they shared a sweet kiss.

“Will I see you again?” Jaebeom asked, and Jinyoung reached over for Jaebeom’s arm, one of his hands digging through his pocket for the pen he always carried around. After scribbling on his number onto his arm along with a few hearts, Jinyoung stepped out of the car, turning around to bid his farewell.

“I do charge for dates though” Jaebeom added, making Jinyoung’s face fall suddenly.

“Ten kisses for every hour” Jinyoung smiled at Jaebeom’s bad joke, his face lighting up once more as he waved at Jaebeom, the elder sending him a flying kiss before driving off. Jinyoung went to sleep with a smile on his face. His lie had after everything, turned into a hopeful tomorrow for Jinyoung.

[thesaunatest]

MY HUGE THEORY ON EL’S PLOTLINE IN S4

before you guys even start, YES I know that 99.9% of what I say is going to be wrong but this is literally just for fun.

its march 1986, middle of the school year and el HATES school

when we left her she was barely literate and had just started getting accostomed to speaking full sentences, NOWHERE NEAR a 9th grade level, so shes struggling in her classes to say the least

on top of that, she barely knows how to socialize with other people, so shes evidently getting picked on

with joyce and jonathan both working to keep the family afloat, will and el get left alone alot

but outside of the party, they socially have nothing in common

in fact, will is adapting to the new town a whole lot better than el. he fit right in with all the creative kids he met in class, but el didnt mesh with that crowd

anyway, our girl is sturggling

the only time she really has fun is when she visits hawkins, or when someone from the party visits them

which leads us to spring break

mike obviously comes to visit, and el doesnt want them to waste a single second so she begs mike and will to come explore the town with her

at this point joyce is already in her detective mode, hatching a rescue plan for hopper so she doesnt notice theyre gone

and jonathan is battling the heartbreak of nancy ghosting him when she was supposed to come visit

so the trio goes off on an adventure without anyone noticing.......... or so they think

because brenner is back, and he knows el is with the byers, but he cant go and snatch her because he doesnt have the resources all the way in california

in fact, he doesnt have the resources at all. his numbers experiment is seen as a catastrophic failure that lead to the deaths of hundreds of lab employees

the only way for him to redeem himself in the community, and gain his funding back is to present his peers with proof that the project can work, so he needs to get one of his numbers back

el is the only one he can track down, but he doesnt think he can do it himself. if she saw him, she could just kill him with her powers, he assumes because he doesnt know she lost them

so who does he employ to get el back to hawkins? lonnie byers

its almost too easy. it doesnt take much to bribe lonnie, and hey, its not like its his kid. so lonnie accepts the bribe, and goes all the way out to california to find el

he shows up at the byers house..... only to find it completely deserted. so he waits

and the trio finds him there after their day out (why are you here? what do you want? where are mom and jonathan?)

and lonnie, being as crafty as he is, comes up with a good excuse on the fly (hes craftier than i am because i genuinely have no idea what he would say)

anyway, he gets them in his car and on their way back to hawkins

jonathan shows up after theyve already left, and is too stoned tired to think anything of the empty house

and joyce is already halfway to russia

will knows his father. he knows that his father doesnt give a shit about him, the family, or anything about hawkins. he knows that his father wouldnt get involved in anything unless he had something to gain. so hes wraking his brain

maybe.... lonnie pulls over to take a suspicious phone call? maybe will figures out an inconsistency in his story? either way, the gang is onto lonnie and figures that they gotta get away from him and get back to joyce and jonathan

they tuck and roll out of the car. idk. all that matters is that they get out of there

as theyre rolling out of the car, el bonks her head a little and has a quick flashback to her time in the lab

since her intuition is always spot on, she takes this as a cue the breener is back and lonnie is working for him

she tells the boys it isnt safe to go back to california or hawkins, so they come up w an alternative plan, somewhere neither brenner nor lonnie would think to look for them

and while theyre on the road, they stop at a diner to eat (dont ask me where they got the money) and we get will leaving an emotional voicemail home, probably sobbing to jonathan about how much he means to will, which gives el an idea

because who has the resources to help her, as well as a desire for vengeance on brenner? kali

el uses her superb hitchiking skills to get them to chicago

maybe she just has some hints of her powers left, but it isnt too hard for el to find kali

she explains everything thats happened, and lets kali know that if she want revenge, the opportunity is hers

unfortunately, lonnie was hot on their trail, and called for reinforcements

theyre ambushed by the few employees brenner has working for him. initially, everyone is hiding, assisted by kali’s powers

but el knows they arent leaving empty handed, and would rather get taken away then have kali’s freedom taken from her

so el reveals herself, followed by mike because he wont leave her, followed by will because he wont leave mike

all three get taken away, back to hawkins lab, but now kali is even more motivated to bring down the lab once and for all

so kali and her gang get to hawkins, almost simultaniously with jonathan, who has been looking for his family in a frenzy since the morning he woke up to find eveyone gone, without even a note or a phone call, as well as argyle, who came along for the ride

the video store is being used as home base this season, so thats the first place they go, where they find steve, shortstaffed and not knowing whats going on because the whole team ditched him

they catch him up to speed on how EVERYONES GONE and steve catches them up to speed on how EVERYONE IS GETTING MURDERED

meanwhile, brenner has three predicaments

1) no matter what he does to el, what kind of torture he inflicts, she isnt using her powers because she doesnt have them. she tells him this several times. he refuses to believe it

2) lonnie byers is demanding his payment, which he didnt recieve because the deal was that he bring el to them, and he couldnt even do that

3) he has to find a way to dispose of mike and will, who he had no intention of bringing into the lab but theyre here and they know everything

and this is the moment where mike screws up by letting them know that people know theyre in the lab and people know about all the experiments and any second now, someones gonna come banging that door down to save us. nancy, jonathan, steve, robin max, lucas, dustin, kali-

and the second mike says her name he knows he screwed up

brenner decides in that moment that all he can do is round up everyone involved and get rid of them. conveniently, the string of murders occurring will serve as a good cover for what happened to them

and this is the part where joyce, murray, and hopper get back to hawkins

this is also the part where nancy and robin and the gang get back to hawkins

so nancy and robin immediately go to the video store armed with all the new information they learned from victor creel

..... and are met with jonathan, argyle, kali, and steve in pandemonium

they close the store for the day, and get ready to storm the lab

they realize that they need something from the school, so they head there to pick it up

and soon after arriving, theyre met with the all to familiar hawkins lab vans

they make a hasty escape, taking out some of the goons but they need to find a way to get the rest off their trail

they head for the woods, hoping to hide out in the cabin

meanwhile, the russia crew has taken the mostly demolished cabin as their haven to recover from whatever injuries they sustained

theyre all running through the woods, but they realize the people from the lab are closing in on them

and then nancy and jonathan pass a very familiar tree

they use whatever weapon they have on them to break through the bark, and head into the upside down

the lab people keep going into the woods, eventually finding hopper’s cabin

epic showdown between the russia crew and the lab people, joyce, murray and hopper win, they realize the lab is back, immediately head there realizing theyre gonna have to rescue someone

nancy and robin use the info they learned from victor creel to keep the gang alive in the upside down, max, argyle and eddie are freaking out because omg we’re in another dimention, we get some big reveal about the truth about the upside down and the gang makes their way out and head to the lab

and while this is all happening,we get some super emotional monologue between brenner and el (ala-the last 10 minutes of the truman show) and brenner realizes that el isnt going to be the naieve superweapn she used to be, and decides the best thing he can do with el is give her the standard punishment, time in the closet

and being in the closet triggers all sorts of flashbacks and emotions (mbb’s opportunity to show off her acting chops for an emmy)

joyce and hopper bust into the lab like they did in season 1, but this time they dont get caught

they decide to split up to cover more ground, and hopper finds el in the closet

and around the same time joyce finds mike and will and gets them out of there

here comes the REAL emotional performance

hopper sees her, we get a teary eyed “el!” “dad!”, and then hopper gets pulled away from el by lab workers

exactly the same way terry did

we’re watching this happen from el’s perspective, with a heart-wrenching “noooooooooo” from el, accompanied by cuts to every time el has had to be separated from someone she cares about (terry, the s1 ending, billy dying, her leaving kali in s2, saying goodbye to everyone on moving day, her being separated from mike and will when they got to the lab) accompanied by some terribly sad 80s song, then back to the present moment, she reaches her hand out and boom, the guards go flying. her powers are back

except she doesnt have control of them the way she did before, and now shes bringing the whole building down

her and hopper race to the the first floor, and meet joyce and the boys, they get out of the building at the very last second, and the whole thing collapses.

eventually they find the other group, the whole team is now together, they go and take down the big bad from the upside down, joyce almost KILLS lonnie

nancy and robin drop a huge bombshell that has to do with hawkins/the upside down, specifically pertaining to el, which they pieced together after talking to victor creel

we get a massive cliffhanger, season 5 starts like 10 minutes after the ending of season 4

[mari-vargas]

How about the story of how my car earned a name?

But first: the story about getting this car. Actually wow there’s a lot of stories that are interconnected here…. Alright well I’ll leave the story about how I developed car anxiety and how it subsequently got worse for another time. Point is I had it, and technically still do although I got help and can now mostly manage it. However due to this above all else I couldn’t stand riding in a car with tight suspension let alone driving one because I could feel the road with my butt. I also didn’t want to be in a red car or a car I whose roof barely reached my chest, as both statistically increased the probability of being involved in an accident (for opposite reasons ironically and no that does not mean the combination cancels each other out). Also I have a long torso and long legs (no I’m not tall my proportions are just a bit odd) so a short car was uncomfortable to try to get into and then to sit in because my head would be brushing the ceiling and it’d be hard to look out the front window.

So with that in mind you might be able to guess how I felt when my mom sent me a picture of a bright red Chevy Spark in someone’s driveway saying only “What do you think?” Well…I told her. My grandma had had a Spark so I knew my head brushed the ceiling, I knew I could feel the road with my butt, I knew it was short and difficult to be spotted by other vehicles even being bright red, I knew it had no getup to get around other cars that hadn’t seen it there before turning or lane changing…so on and so forth. I gave her my honest thoughts through stated facts.

I THOUGHT she was asking my opinion before deciding whether to buy it from the person whose driveway it was in. TURNS OUT she had bought it as a used car from a dealership that had used it as a rental and was now selling it after it had reached a certain number of miles. The driveway she had taken the pictures of it in? Was OUR driveway and I had just completely missed that. My mom was so pissed at me. She had my dad call me because she just couldn’t deal with my “disrespect” (however accidental it had been…oof). My dad cleared up the misunderstanding between the two of us and I was ecstatic to have my own car to use up at university and my mom had gotten a really low monthly payment for it that I’ve been able to handle myself since graduating. My mom told me she knew how I couldn’t stand to “feel the road with my butt” and had taken it on a long test drive just to make sure she couldn’t before she signed for it. The seats were adjustable and I’m able to sit in it without my head hitting the ceiling. And besides it was mostly for an around town car so the other issues were less major hazards. She picked me up in it from the transport station when I came home for winter break and my dad helped me get it back to university with me at the end of break.

I was able to stand it, but I didn’t particularly like the car. It was still red. It was still small. It was still not very aerodynamic and very lightweight. To be honest I already had a year and a half experience getting around without my own car so the little red roller skate basically spent the whole semester sitting getting rained sap on in my apartment parking lot. It came home with me for the summer. That’s when I really used it. That summer (as with the previous 5 years) I was working up the mountain at a summer camp as a lifeguard (omg—the irony: I have a fear of drowning), and additionally I was volunteering at a museum that was about the same length drive as to my actual job, so long as there was no traffic (with traffic it could be 2-3 times as long).

One day on my way home from the museum, there was a HUGE wildfire that wound up jumping over and straddling the freeway I took to get home. Worse, it had already overtaken the back road through the mountains. I was stuck, along with thousands of other cars trying to find any way out. The traffic was horrendous and it took 3 hours to get from one end of the town to the other (where I’d have gotten off to take the back way if that’s how I went…not that it mattered, we were forced off anyways). About 2-2.5 hours in I heard from the radio that the mountain roads had been contained and reopened for the stretch that I needed so I planned on taking that. It had taken me almost an hour to go between two stop lights, and I had considered pulling over in a parking lot I was three cars away from being at the entrance to, but right as I got to the driveway the mountain roads were opened. Then just as I reached the turn for the mountain roads, the freeway entrance right there was opened right before my eyes. I got on the freeway and passed through still burning areas and after that passed by several cars that had overheated and stopped running. I had already swore to my car when the temperature gauge for the outside temp suddenly jumped to 140-something°F that if we got through this together I’d find a name. And while passing by those other cars I reiterated that promise and even started brain storming names.

The stubbornness and sass and indignation I could feel rolling off my car mixed with the absolute queen energy meant it wasn’t hard to decide to go with more feminine names. An obvious choice given her size and color might have been Ladybug. This of course was also strengthened by the fact I was watching Miraculous Ladybug at the time and well my car had earned her name by saving me and not giving up even when it got really tough. I didn’t want to name her Ladybug though because to me that was a name for a VW Beetle. My old dream car that stopped being my dream car at the peak of my car anxiety because VW—old and new—have very tight suspension: you’ll know if there’s so much as a pebble in your path. So then I decided perhaps Marinette? But…well I wasn’t comfortable explaining the reasoning behind that one. So instead I thought perhaps I can compromise, something with ‘Mari’ (muh-ree like Marie, not mawr-ee like the shorthand of my character my page uses the name of) so I could still pay homage to the cartoon superhero. And I was in luck: google translate provided a translation of ‘ladybug’ in Spanish as “Mariquita”. Now I don’t know a single Spanish-native speaker who has ever even heard of that word let alone using it for the red and black spotted beetles, but regardless it was ideal for my usage.

My car is now named Mariquita, Mari for short. Although to be honest we usually call her something closer to “Murrey” because it’s close to “Murphy” as in Murphy’s Law. As I’m sure I mentioned before (although as it’s been several days since I typed most of this post out, I can’t really remember) she’s a bit of a Shop Queen. But that’s ok. Despite it all she’s been pushed way beyond her initial expectations of being a little around town car. She’s gotten me through two major fires, and been prepped for evacuation for several more. She’s become a car with an hour commute each way at least five days a week on high speed freeways with nothing around for miles. She’s been a moving car and a road trip car and been car jenga’d successfully more times that I can count. She was never meant to do what the things she has wound up having to do, and yet she’s pulled through time and time again.

[shannendoherty-fans]

People, September 9th 1991

High School Confidential

By Tom Gliatto and Michael Alexander.

Photos by Mark Sennett.

Beverly Hills, 90210 Gets Its Heat from a Dangerously Cute Cast of TV's Hottest New Stars CONFIDENTIAL MEMO: FROM: The Vice Principal TO: The Faculty, High School U.S.A. I'm sure I don't need to remind you what happened when we didn't prepare for Bart Simpson last fall. The school was flooded with rude, antieducational T-shirts. Some cows were had. Well, as a new school year gets under way, I believe we face another daunting challenge: Brace yourselves for Beverly Hills, 90210. That's the Fox drama about unworldly twin teens Brandon and Brenda Walsh (played by Jason Priestley and Shannen Doherty), recent transferees from Minneapolis to the Hills of Beverly. There they struggle to assimilate into the fast-lane lifestyle of West Beverly Hills High School, where the kids come equipped with BMWs, call waiting and designer surfboards. In the process, the teens examine their emerging identities and the problems that adolescents everywhere face.

The show languished in the Nielsen ratings against Thursday powerhouse Cheers last year. But Fox had no replacement, so it stayed. While we were on summer vacation, new 90210 episodes began airing, and the show landed in the Top 20, becoming the most popular show among teenagers. To some extent, I take responsibility for having ignored 90210. I made the mistake of reading newspaper critics instead of my daughter's diary, and so I believed, as Howard Rosenberg sniffed in the Los Angeles Times, that the show was merely a "ZIP code for stereotypes and stock characters." Little did I know that this show would mesmerize teens by doing emotionally realistic shows that involved adolescent rebellion, alcoholic; parents, a breast-cancer scare and plenty of worrisome teen sex. "Most shows for adolescents," says 90210 creator Darren Star, "seem like they are written by 50-year-olds who think teenagers behave like 7-year-olds."

It also doesn't hurt that the show's male stars, Priestley and Luke Perry (who plays brooding loner Dylan McKay), are "to die for," as my daughter puts it. These two have each been receiving about 1,500 fan letters a week. So be vigilant: Surely some of these will be written by our students...during class! And I'm afraid that 90210 is only going to get bigger with our kids, if producer Aaron Spelling is to be believed. "I thought The Mod Squad and Charlie's Angels got a lot of publicity in their heyday," says Spelling, whose company produced those shows, "but it doesn't compare to this. It's crazy. We have merchandising coming out of our ears"—a complete line of T-shirts, beach towels, notebooks, etc. "And now these actors can't walk down the street!"

Or even streak through malls. You probably saw those alarming news reports about a frenzied mob of 10,000 fans that stampeded Perry when he appeared at a south Florida mall last month. "It's a little scary," says Perry. Scarier is the amount of time students will waste this fall discussing Luke. And Jason. And who is sexier. I provide some information on the two. Jason Priestley, 22, plays Brandon Walsh, a model of thoughtful level-headedness. In real life, however, the brown-haired, blue-eyed star, who started acting in commercials at age 4 and played an orphan on that very nice NBC sitcom Sister Kate, is no Oliver Twist. He likes dirt bikes, bungee jumping and is a chain-smoker (just about the whole cast puffs it up—but not on-camera). Vancouver-born Priestley likes to hang out in Las Vegas. As for his real romantic life, he was reportedly dating actress Robin (Doogie Howser, M.D.) Lively last spring, but it seems likely that now he is too busy for such dalliance;. He must be on the set 14 hours a day, five days a week. To avoid ever-present fans, Priestley says, "I look different from my character when I'm just walking around. I don't shave, I don't dress like Brandon."

On the show, 26-year-old Luke Perry (Brenda Walsh's boyfriend, Dylan) sports a leather jacket, dagger sideburns and a squint that spells t-r-o-u-b-l-e. Although he grew up and graduated from high school in Fredericktown, Ohio, he seems to have attended James Dean wise-guy classes. Perry, who played country-boy Ned Bates on the ABC soap Loving, entertains the 90210 cast by strutting around bare-chested making jokes. Does he have a girlfriend? "No. You know how I can get in touch with Linda Hamilton?" What kind of music does he listen to? "Tom Jones is awesome." Are he and Priestley ever mistaken for each other? "He's mistaken for me on his good days." And 90210, he says, is "the best show on television, except for Jeopardy!" We should act quickly, faculty, when we see any signs that Beverly Hills, 90210 is disrupting normal student activity.

How abnormal might things get? Consider: "It's almost like there are cults," says Brian Austin Green, 18, the North Hollywood High grad who plays the cutely dweeby David Silver. "Girls go to school the day after the show, and they actually become these characters. They say, 'Okay, today I want to be Dylan, you can be Brenda, you can be Brandon.' " Needless to say, students caught pretending to be TV characters should be brought directly to my office for detention. But you know, it might not be a bad thing if our students could show some of the good sense that the 90210ers display in coping with the pressures of fame and fortune. Jennie Garth, 19, who plays the very sexy, very blond, very snotty Kelly Taylor, is particularly admirable. The youngest of seven children, she grew up on a farm near Champaign, Ill., until her schoolteacher parents moved to Phoenix when she was 13. "Living in a small town and coming from a very tight and close family instilled a lot of standards that I need to live up to," says Garth, who just bought a home in Sherman Oaks. She also recently supplied her parents with the down payment for their new home, setting a splendid example for today's youth.

According to a tabloid that someone left in the faculty lounge, Memphis-raised Shannen Doherty, 20, a veteran of such wonderful shows as Little House: A New Beginning, is the only cast member to be accused of behaving like "a spoiled brat" on the set. But she maintains she is no such thing. "I think everybody gets in a bad mood," Shannen says. "You do not work 16-hour days and not start feeling it. But I have never thrown a tantrum. I've gotten upset on the set, but it's never been just to be a bitch. You have to stand up for yourself in this business. That was something I was told when I was 12 years old and working with Michael Landon."

As with about half the cast members, Doherty is in a relationship—in her case, a real-estate developer with whom she's exchanged commitment rings. "You really have to date a while before you decide if this is the person you want to marry," she says with Brenda-like candor. Almost sounds like the relationship could be a future 90210 plot. "The problems of young people have accelerated," says Aaron Spelling, "and so have their feelings and thoughts." The show, he says, has kept pace: Even with their Clearasil-perfect complexions and plump allowances, the students at Beverly Hills have encountered their share of problems. "We had the guts to make Luke Perry be a member of AA," says Spelling. "We had Jason, our star, drinking and driving. That's reality."

And, apparently, the adulatory fan mail often includes a sad dose of that reality. "I got a letter the other day from a girl who mentioned the show we did on parental drug abuse," says Perry in a rare moment of seriousness. "She wrote about catching her father freebasing in the basement. I get letters like that all the time, from people all over the country." Gabrielle Carteris (at age 30, she's 90210's oldest cast-kid), who plays Andrea Zuckerman, the bright student who comes from the wrong side of Rodeo Drive, remembers an encouraging close encounter in a grocery store. "One girl came up to me after we'd done the breast-cancer show," says Carteris. "She said, 'I went home with all my friends and we checked our breasts for lumps.' "

In conclusion: Maybe I didn't need to write this memo. Maybe things won't be that bad, even if every locker in every corridor has a picture of Jason, Luke, Shannen or Jennie in it. Perhaps our dear little school is more like West Beverly Hills High—at least the TV version—than I thought. That's what Ian Ziering, 27, thinks too. "The reality on the show pretty much mirrors the way life is all over, in terms of teenagers," says New Jersey—bred Ziering, who once did Fruit of the Loom underwear ads and now plays 90210's curly-headed jock, Steve Sanders. "There's a mystique about Beverly Hills. But that's not what keeps people tuning in. The show could have been Montana E-I-E-I-O." By the way, should any student pronounce his name "eee-an," correct him or her, please. It's "eye-an."

-- WHEN BEVERLY HILLS, 90210 PREMIERED last October, Highlights, the student newspaper at Beverly Hills High, ran articles mocking the school's TV counterpart, West Beverly Hills High. "They said that the show was a joke," says Jenny Brandt, 14, a sophomore at the 1,900-student school. But as the story lines improved and Jason Priestley and Luke Perry became stars, the jokes stopped, and Brandt found herself, like many of her pals, glued to the set on Thursday nights from 9 to 10 P.M. "No phone calls allowed," says Brandt. "Except during commercials." Hope Levy, a 17-year-old senior, has taken fandom a step further with her friends. "We have little handmade cards," she says, speaking from her mom's car phone. "They say you're a member of Club 90210." While some kids think the show treats them as snobby stereotypes, most agree with sophomore Jordan Rynes when he says, "It's like a soap opera for teens. The shows dealing with drinking and drugs are the most real—adults don't realize how accurate it is."