#but also take care of your hands... this kind of rendering would take my arm and then some

[dnsbarbie]

DEAR READER | C.L 16 (ONE)

Notes: (This involves an Original Character btw)

* English isn’t my first language and I’m still trying to get back my writing mojo ehehe

* No trigger warnings besides mentions of catcalling ??

*This was written to be intentionally a bit vague since it’s just the first chapter

next parts: TWO | THREE

THE AROMA OF FRESHLY watered plants hit her senses. She exhaled the nature-given scent, producing a wave of serotonin in her body. A hand came up to brush away the brunette locks flying across her face from the strength of the wind. Her eyes gazed upon the calm rhythmic waves of the sea, smiling as the floral fragrance mingled with the salty taste of the air.

She was aware of the consequences. The blissful silence she was feeling had a price and the piper would eventually come for the gold. Nonetheless, she chose to bask at the few moments that she had left. Later, she’d be back to scrubbing at a her boss’ expensive yacht. Getting a nice manicure had been long rendered useless at how easily they’d get chipped.

Glancing down at her hands, a grimaced presented itself on her mouth as she spotted the dirt clinging on the inside of her nails.

As she got lost in her thoughts, she raked at her fingernails to clean through the icky substances. She truly had no qualms working for the rich. Not only do they pay handsomely, they also handed her occasional gift apart from her daily salary.

The amount of times she’d been mistaken for a hooker were extremely unhealthy. She often recalls the eye rolls she’d give the old men who’d whistle at her across the port as if she’s some sort of animal.

Lucky for her, her present employer was far from the elderly rich men, sporting beer belly that prey on girls younger than their own daughters.

Her boss was not passed sixty years of age. Instead of bothering young girls, he has this lovely wife and son whom he never fails to show his unwavering devotion to.

One could only dream of a life like his.

“Natalia!”

And here we go.

“Yes?” She yelled back, turning her body to look at the direction of her boss. She watched his towering stature make its way to the harbor, steps creaking beneath the wooden surface.

He squinted at the glare of the sun behind her head. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

Her eyes widened at the invitation, hands waving from left to right. “Oh! I couldn’t possibly intrude—”

“Nonsense. You’re not.” He silenced her worries. “Come on.” Lending an arm to assist her down the step she was standing on.

Natalia stared at him, her features conveying incredulity. “Right now?”

He peaked at her curiously, slowly tugging her away from the port, taking care not to step on her dress. “It’s passed 6 PM . . .” At his remark, she raised her arm to take a look at her watch.

The hands did indicate a 18:37. Her mouth formed into an “o” at the confirmation. She hadn’t realize she had been dilly-dallying for that long. Her break started nearly two hours prior. The thought to recharge her energy were originally to last only an hour at best.

“I’m sorry— I completely lost track of time,” She apologized, tilting her head up to her boss who simply chuckled at her hushed tone.

“It’s quite alright.” He hummed, returning her gaze. “You’ve finished everything, haven’t you?”

She nodded her head, eyes glistening with pride. “I did! The magazines are back inside the father right cabinet, scrubbed the deck and the body. And I swear— It’s so clean, I could see my reflection ever surface,”

Her enthusiasm brought joy to him, optimg to approve her hard work. “Very good, then.” Natalia spotted his wife by one of the many luxurious cars they own.

A kind smile graced her lips as the pair approached her. “Oh, look at you! What have you been doing?” The motherly scolding tone was anything but scary to Natalia as the blonde woman began to fuss over the her.

“You should really tell her to come inside when she’s done, Toto . . .” Your boss winced at his wife’s glare.

Her graceful hands worked through Natalia damp locks, untangling the knots the had formed on her head. “I must’ve gone for a short swim. . .” She released a laugh to cover up her growing anxiety at the glare she threw her way. “I’m fine, Susie! Just need a shower— if we still have time?”

She glanced up at Toto, who suppressed a playful eye roll, nodding at the smiley girl nonetheless.

“Great! I’ll be back as soon as a can!” Natalia landed a peck on Susie’s cheeks before waving a hand to Toto, running back to their estate.

“That girl. . .” Toto clicked his tongue, but the grin on his face betrayed his true feelings.

“Absolutely adorable,” Susie chipped in, eyes crinkling at her husband’s own glee. But as she stared at Natalia’s retreating form, her expression fell serious. “I thought I told you to tell her that she doesn’t have to work for us anymore,”

Toto strides along with Susie as he answered the question. “I will, later over dinner.”

Susie raised an eyebrow at her husband, arms crossing to her chest. “Dinner? The one you’re having with Fred?”

“Yes— but,” He got ahead of her disapproving look, lifting a finger up to soothe away her frustration. “I’m taking her with me to broaden her connections.”

The enlightenment brought recollection to Susie’s features, heart warming the generous gesture Toto was giving to Natalia. “It’s nice that she knows what she wants, no?”

The tall man agreed, tucking his hands inside his pockets. It had been a nearly a year since Natalia started doing minor tasks for them. In her own faith, when she arrived at their residence, a natural rhythm fell place in her actions. The chores that were usually done by the usual cleaning lady was finished by her.

In her persuading self, she tried to Toto that she could do some of the boat cleaning as well. Of course, he was quick to deny her insistence, stating that her studies are the only thing she needs to focus on.

Natalia Valle was an exchange student from the Philippines. She had passed the examination for the University of Monaco and had been staying in the dorms for the last 3 years. That was until a financial crisis arose between her parents and before she knew it, a wet sponge and a bucket of water was her saving grace to get by everyday.

Thankfully, Susie had found her by the harbor. She sat there, eyes falling close a few times. The bags under her eyes were impossible to miss, conveying her lack of rest. Her hands gripped lightly at a fishing rod. The wooden handle constricted at her hand instinctively as the pull of an object from under the water awakened her spirit.

She flinched, eyes flying open at the force. Susie remembers hearing her devastated groans as the string snapped from its hook, light splashes appeared at the large body of water, indicating the fish’s escape.

One would turn away and go on with their life, Susie would have if she hadn’t seen the distinguish cut on her palm. The one she later turned over to use her fingers as a grapple to dig for another hook and string in her bag.

Getting Natalia’s wounds treated by Susie Wolff was definitely not in her bucket list. But she sat there, trying her best not to look too nervous as Susie herself dressed the long cut on her hand.

Susie didn’t need to make small talk, Natalia thought. Unknown to her, the genuine intentions that harbored Susie’s questions.

From there, Susie struck a deal with her after hearing how she ended up on that port. Susie offered to pay off her last year as a journalism student and her dorm rent. All she wanted in return was for her to graduate.

Of course, disbelief was a natural reaction. To Natalia, she hasn’t done anything special to earn a free pass for her burdens to be lifted off her shoulders.

As she expressed her hesitance, stating that she should not leech off someone else so easily with anything in exchange. Irises expanded at her sheer assertions to at least do something for them in return. To wrap her in solace, Susie agreed to the simple tasks.

Here they were, in the present. Natalia continued to work for her allowance despite Toto’s futile attempts to take the chores off the girl’s hands.

But tonight, he’ll finally be telling him a news that would make her, hopefully, drop all those cleaning supplies.

————————————————————————

Natalia clenched her hands in her lap, settling on admiring the silver bracelet adorned with the crystalline diamonds given to her by Susie last Christmas. Her fingernails chipped at her cuticles, watching the car pass through a series of establishments, deliberately crating a closer approximate to their destination.

The silk of her dress wrinkled at the spot which had had enclosed on her hand, leaving the mark of her worries.

“What’s the matter?”

Toto’s voice made spring her though back, choosing to return Toto’s waiting gaze.

“You didn’t tell me Charles was coming,” She sulked, her whiny tone caught a tug at the corners of Toto’s mouth.

“I knew you wouldn’t go if I told you,” The nonchalance of his shrug expelled a sigh from Natalia.

She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, twiddling with her phone. At the silence, her thoughts scrambled into one idea. One she couldn’t let go, electing to ask it.

“Are you switching teams?”

Toto didn’t seem astonished at her rash query, solely negating her with a soft “No, I’m not.”

The furrow of Natalia’s brows relaxed at his answer, shoulders sagging in defeat. She swore she had it.

The car came to a holt in front of a popular restaurant she was all familiar with. The bright lights twinkled in her vision as the valet opened her door. She tipped her head as a polite greeting, plucking herself from the seat. Her hand drew the rest of her dress out of the vehicle, proceeding to stand her full height.

Toto came to her side, patiently waiting to get herself ready. When she did, she strode with him to the cemented steps where he lent his hand as assistance.

Just one last step to spare before they’re at the door, but heavens had other plans.

“Toto!” An accented voice came calling from below. His joyful exclamation was accompanied by a chuckle similar to his expression.

Natalia found herself turning back as well. True enough, At the bottom of the stairs stood two figures. The jolly French team principal of Scuderia Ferrari, Frederic Vasseur and the team’s golden boy, Charles Leclerc were both wearing matching smiles.

Toto mirrored their smiles, extending a hand to Fred when the pair reached them. Natalia greeted the team principal as well, shaking his hand lightly. When she let go, her eyes wondered to the green eyed individual in front of her.

“Hi,” She chipped, giving him a soft grin to which he responded with a chuckle.

“Good evening, Natalia.” He roamed his eyes through her well-dressed figure. The silk on her body hugged her curves in all the right places. Charles realized he had been staring for quite some time. Fortunately, Toto invited everyone to come inside and start dinner.

————————————————————————

Dinner was going fairly well. The dimly lit hall invoked an air of ease, along with the delectable dishes that have been served. The candles illuminated her face, giving off a warmth through her skin.

She would go as far as to say it was perfect if it wasn’t Charles’ eyes burning into her face. Granted, when she would attempt to reciprocate his stare, he’d look away. Her consciousness made her click unto her phone’s camera, thinking there might be a peculiar substance on her appearance. However, after a few checks every little while, she found no disarray to her make up.

Why was he looking at her like that?

“Natalia,” At the sound of her name, she snapped her head towards Fred, who sat across Toto. “Toto tells me that you need an internship . . .”

The tone of his voice dripped of knowing. Natalia blinked back at him. “Yes, I am.” Was the only thing she could manage as she studied the expression on his face.

Is he? No, surely not.

Fred inclined his body, hands clasped together on the table as a smirk ghosted on his lips. “Well you’re in luck,” No way. “Ferrari’s currently accepting interns. Would you be—”

“Yes!” A hand slapped on her mouth as her voice resounded through the space.

Charles halted the chortle that crawled up his throat, concealing it with a bow of his head.

“Then it’s settled,” Toto clapped Natalia shoulder in a congratulatory amenity, a sense of pride flourishing in his chest. “Whenever you’re ready. I’ll drive you to the Ferrari headquarters.”

Natalia could barely contain her excitement at Toto’s claim. She stood up, reaching her hand toward Fred who gladly received it with the same enthusiasm.

“Thank you so much,” The heat of her eyes were beginning to burn, signaling her near waterworks. “This is such an honor, honestly. . .”

“Actually, we’re heading back to Maranello tomorrow.” Charles joined the conversation, peering up at her standing stature. “You can go with me, if you want,”

Natalia didn’t miss the emphasis on the last words, lips curling behind her teeth at the suggestion.

“That would be great,” She nodded, shooting him a grateful look. “Is 9 AM fine?”

Trying to catch Natalia’s gaze, he kept his on her. “Perfect.”

An indecipherable expression crossed Charles’ features, leaving as quickly as it came when Natalia blinked.

This is wasn’t a well thought idea. Natalia was aware of this fact. The thought of spending four hours in a car with Charles sent rippling shudders down her back. Perhaps the yearning to commit to her life long dreams were stronger than the impending discomfort she had to endure for a few moments.

After all, they both agreed never to speak about it ever again. A long car ride shouldn’t be so hard.

————————————————————————

NEXT PART: H E R E

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #charles lechair #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc x oc #f1 poster #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #landoscar #oscar piastri #lewis hamilton #lestappen #george russell #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader #pierre gasly #fernando alonso #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #formula one

[lewmagoo]

Bob would send you dirty thots if he wasn't too busy wrapping your legs around his hips and pressing you against the wall of the Hard Deck patio so he could slide right on in. You'd send the thots yourself if you weren't too busy meeting him stroke for stroke before coming all over his cock. The moonlight was the only thing lighting up the area, but at least there's enough that you could see the look on his face when he finished too. Y'all really need to stop doing this risky shit, just sayin'. You're gonna get caught.

Byyye!

everyone assumed the two of you were taking a moonlit walk on the beach. that was bob, ever the romantic. sweet and kind and thoughtful. the kind of guy that bought you flowers just because. the kind of guy who told you how beautiful you were every single day. the kind of guy who left love notes on the bathroom mirror for you to find in the morning. but he was also the kind of guy who couldn’t get enough of his wife’s sweet, sweet cunt. no one would clock him as the type to be anything other than vanilla when it came to romps in the sheets. however, bob floyd was anything but vanilla. gotta watch out for those quiet ones, after all.

it was his idea to get some air. he didn’t like how stuffy the bar had become. it smelled too strongly of alcohol. the song rooster was banging out on the piano sounded a little too loud. his comrades were a little too drunk. the two of you were the only sober ones in the room, it seemed. while bob was perfectly unbothered if you consumed alcohol, you chose not to, simply because in your mind, it was no fun if only one of you was drunk. instead, the two of you would cozy up in a corner together with a shirley temple and people watch. tonight, however, the people watching grew boring. so outside you went, hand in hand. it was completely innocent, until bob pulled you into the shadows.

“wanted you all night,” he murmured against your mouth as you gladly kissed him back. you leaned back to raise a brow. “ah, so that’s what this is. you just wanted an excuse to get in my pants,” you teased. he shrugged, stealing another kiss. “can ya blame me? you’re irresistible, honeypie.” your back hit the outside wall of the building. you were just hidden enough that no one would immediately suspect anything, but if they decided to come in for a closer look, you were screwed. bob didn’t seem to care, however. in a hurried frenzy, he undid his slacks, and you shoved your hand down into them, wrapping your fingers around his half hard cock, stroking him to fullness. in the meantime, be shoved your dress up, pulling the crotch of your panties aside before he plunged his fingers into you, pulling a squeal from you as he curled them upwards, building a rhythm until your slick was coating those digits.

he slid them out of you and brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean before he reached down to align his cock with you. his mouth was on yours, swallowing your sharp gasp as he pushed into you in one fluid motion. the pinchy stretch took your breath away, and you clutched his shirt tightly in your hands. “s’big,” you squeaked. you were pretty sure you uttered that word every time he fucked you. but you couldn’t help it. it was the truth, and he loved to hear it, it spurred him on. “and you take it like such a good little wife,” he cooed. what followed wasn’t slow or drawn out. it was rushed, a frenzy of need and desperation, mouths swallowing each other’s moans as you each chased your high. but bob wasn’t selfish. he’d be damned if he didn’t make you come first.

you might’ve been embarrassed over how quickly you finished, if it wasn’t for him rendering you brainless, fingers circling hurriedly around your swollen clit. the thrill of potentially being caught, coupled with the eroticism of it all, brought you over the edge at record speed. “c-co-coming,” you squeaked into his mouth, and he held your trembling form close, soothing you as you fell apart, trembling fiercely in his strong arms. as your head lolled to his shoulder, his hands came down to grasp your hips, pulling you back down onto his cock. a few deep thrusts later, and he was spilling his release within you, biting down on your shoulder to keep from crying out. his hips stuttered, pumping into you a few more times before he finally fell still against you, chest heaving, breathing labored.

moments later, he lifted his head to look at you. his hair was messy and his cheeks were flushed. there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. the bastard. “mm, that was quick,” he hummed in amusement. “think i made ya come in record time.” you hid your face against his neck. “couldn’t help it. felt too good,” you murmured. “i know. such a sensitive baby, huh? get my cock inside ya and you lose your mind,” he teased. you nodded, because it was the truth. “and i love it,” you admitted. he smiled. “so do i, honey. can’t resist your sweet little pussy.” soft lips kissed yours again, only to swallow your whimper when he eased his softening cock out of you. he pulled your panties back into place and said, “if you can be a good girl and hold it all inside you ‘til we get home, i’ll make you come on my tongue.”

and how could you resist an offer like that?

#asks #bob musings #bob floyd x reader

[peachsayshi]

WHO SAYS I LOVE YOU FIRST? (Pt. 2) (Dad!Sukuna x F!Reader)

minors and ageless blogs do not interact.

a/n: this is part two of this little drabble scenario but Sukuna gets his own prompt because I’m connecting it to the ongoing Dad!Sukuna series! my requests are closed at the moment but I plan on opening them up when I finish what is in my queue - if you have any ideas you want to submit it’ll only be for hc’s or prompts related to any of the fics that I’m currently writing! (I would appreciate some fluff or angst prompts lol most of the stuff is all smut requests) I hope you enjoy this 💖 - I’m definitely going to elaborate on the whole story between this pair when I write my three part series! - let me know if you would like to be added to my Sukuna tag list or full tag list! 

TAGS: sukuna has a child, angst :c, sukuna is also an asshole, alludes to past abuse (not with Sukuna)

Sukuna stood before you with a dumbstruck expression resting across his face, while trying to comprehend what possessed you to confess those words to him…in the middle of an argument no less. 

He can’t even remember why everything escalated to this point.

One minute you were snuggled in his arms and the next you two had sprung away from each other and started bickering about everything under the sun.

Sukuna was growing frustrated with your odd behavior, and you were tired of him constantly brushing you off. 

He wanted to be an active influence in Rai’s life and you weren’t happy with how he treated his role as a father like a twisted game to fulfill a dynastic fantasy he had. 

He reminded you in that moment that Rai wasn’t just a human, and you rebutted that he was more like you than Sukuna would ever care to admit. 

Back and forth you both dissected everything wrong about your relationship, until the pain made you unravel and you parted to lips to spill a secret you had been keeping guarded up to this point. 

“I love you… ” you admitted, and the surprise settled across your face as the silence hung in the air. 

Sukuna swallowed the lump in his throat, taking in the sight of his beautiful and vulnerable concubine whose knuckles began turning white as your hands clenched tightly into fists, while you patiently waited for him to say...something. 

The truth is, Sukuna’s mind drew a blank.

For the first time in his long life, someone had actually rendered him speechless. 

He didn’t understand this conflicting emotion that plagued humans, one which made them incredibly soft and emphasized their weaknesses. 

He especially couldn’t wrap his mind that you - the witness to the extremeties of his violence, the devotee that had accepted him in his purest form, and the martyr who risked her own life whenever you stood your ground against his unruly wrath - would ever consider him with any kind of affection.

He took one stride toward you, then another, moving at a slow pace which only made your heart beat faster. He brushed his knuckles lightly across your cheek before hardening his gaze and narrowing his cold eyes.

“An innocent mistake on your part, my pet. You’ll soon learn to get over it.”

An audible gasp escaped you, the hurt washing over you in waves from how quickly your king had come to reject you. 

You didn’t even ask for his permission to be dismissed, and turned on your heel before storming your way out of his bedroom where you had been comfortably residing in over the last few weeks.

Sukuna believed that time would heal the wounds engraved in your heart - even though a small part of himself regretted the way he handled this particular situation.

He promised himself that he would at least respect your boundaries until you were ready to approach him, but as time passed he found himself growing restless from how adamant you were on distancing yourself from him. 

You avoided him at every cost, ensuring that you were never around his vicinity whenever he would stroll the palace grounds. He would ask the other servants about you, but you already gave them perfectly crafted stories with reasons as to why you had been kept occupied.  As his patience began wearing thin, Sukuna decided that he would use his free time with Rai instead in the hopes that he may lure you to his presence through the child you shared. 

Sitting on his throne one morning, Sukuna sighed quietly in defeat when he realized that nothing was enough to make you push this particular argument aside. A week had almost passed now, and there was still no sign of you.

He ran his his fingers through his son’s red hair, feeling Rai tilting his head underneath his touch as he looked up at his father with fiery, warm eyes. 

They may share similar physical traits, but the feelings conveyed through the child’s compassionate stare was wholeheartedly yours. 

A tender glance that made an unfamiliar warmth spread across the cursed king’s chest.

He merely had enough of you giving him the cold shoulder and decided to show up at your quarters one night.

He didn’t care how late the hour was, nor did he take your privacy into any consideration when he slid the screen doors wide open. 

To his surprise you were awake, and he found you leaning against the window as you were staring out into the distance.

He made eye contact with you, realizing that you regarded him with neither surprise or fear.

He could tell that you had been expecting this moment, which gave him the confidence to approach you without hesitation. 

His fingers held your chin when he stood in front of you, and he tilted your up face up towards him before speaking. 

“I will take you to bed tonight.” 

The sentence wasn’t a request, but an order. He had every intention of disrobing you right where you were before having you in ways that would make your voice carry across the grounds.

He did very little to hide his own desperation, and your fingers squeezed the overlap of your kimono as you held the front panel tightly close your chest. 

Sukuna lightly trace your bottom lip with his thumb, tugging at it slightly as he arched to lean forward. He rubbed the side of his nose on yours, his warm breath making your lashes flutter and you found yourself parting your lips naturally before catching yourself from falling into his trap.

“No.” 

Your words were barely a whisper, and it took a moment for Sukuna to even realize that you had spoken before he froze from delivering his kiss. 

You felt his hand drop away from your jaw, his fingers stretching out to curl around your neck as he made direct eye contact with you. 

He look incredibly displeased.

He has never heard you defy him under any circumstances.

When you were brought to him as a sacrifice he expected you to cower the first night he planned on taking you to his bed, but you accepted him without any question. He wasn’t used to your rejection because never turned him away, and at this very second he found himself growing more frustrated than anticipated.

“You have duties to fulfill, pet... services to perform...” Sukuna reminded, dragging his lips away from yours as he breathed in the scent of your skin before gliding them dow your neck, “…how are you of use to me if you don’t comply?” 

His words made you tremble, but you maintained your composure as you held your head high. 

“You tell me...” 

You challenged him again, making your king pull away from you as he looked at you with confusion and annoyance. 

“I’ve given you a whole new life, and this is how you thank me?” he scoffed. “Did you forget how easily men used you...” 

He ripped open old wounds that took you a long time to heal, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks at the mention of your haunting past.

“My past is no different than my present,” you reminded him, “You use me for your own pleasure and if I hadn’t given you a son then you wouldn’t have treated me any differently...” 

Yes I would, Sukuna argued back in his mind, but he wouldn’t let those words slip and show even an ounce of vulnerability.

He had no idea why you were winding him up this much, no comprehension as to why he couldn’t rationalize the maddening emotions that were conflicting his mind.

He didn’t want to admit that he had been yearning for you every second of every day, nor did he want confess that he couldn’t look at any of the other concubines without feeling sick to his stomach. 

He looped one arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest and making your feet hover off the ground form his sheer strength. 

He pinched the front of his brows, his nostrils flaring as his pupils shrunk in size and he could feel your hand claw at his arms as you attempted to push him off you.

He brought mouth lips to your ear, murmuring in a low but sinister voice that had you trembling from his cruel words.

“If you’re unhappy with your position, you’re free to leave.” 

When he released you from his embrace is when you felt your heart shatter, unable to withstand all the cracks that he had already inflicted. 

Sukuna wasn’t stupid - you knew that he was giving you ultimatum to make you rethink your current behavior towards him by reminding you of how much you had to lose. 

Serving your king guaranteed you safety, a roof of over your head and a warm meal. You would never have to worry about Rai under the protection of his father, knowing full well that if any of the jujutsu sorcerers got wind of his existence that they would kill him faster than you can even blink. 

Yet, you had grown tired of compliance, exhausted yourself of having to obey and submit with every breath you took. You hated that you’ve shed more tears than laughed, that death stood by you with every threat and insult, and that your love was only worth empty bribes and gold.

These last few weeks made you believe in a dream that never seemed tangible when vicious King treated you like a lover - sharing a bed with you, ensuring that your were pampered and nourished, and taking away any formalities that asserted his power of you.

You were beginning to see a glimpse of a beatiful future - one where you no longer used your body as a means to end, where your son could grow without ever having to comprehend the struggles of how harsh this cruel world could be, and where you could truly give all the parts of you to the one person who mattered.

How could Sukuna have been this blind sided by your confession when you thought that some part of him loved you in return? 

You wiped a rogue tear away from your face, acknowledging in that moment that you didn’t want to live the rest of your life being viewed as an object from the being you loved. 

You didn’t know how to survive on your own, but if liberating yourself meant a small chance of unconditional happiness, you realized it was a risk worth taking. 

*** 

TAG: @chemstrails-club @mrsmorgenstern @pensivespecter @ekaterinatepes @bloombb @nanamikentcs

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna angst #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Been Here All Along - Chapter 1

A/N: hey guys! So this is chapter 1 to my new Jake Seresin fanfiction. I’m not sure how long it will be, I’m just kind of going with the flow. I hope you guys like it!

Growing up in Texas meant there always something to do; whether it was watching your parents tend to the farm or playing with the kids next door. You never seemed to be bored. Your older brother, who was only a year older, also sometimes let you tag along with him and his friends. Your all time favorite of his friends, and the nicest of the group, was none other than Jake Seresin.

Jake lived directly next door to you guys and every single day he was either at your house or you were at his. He was a constant in your life; always wanting you to tag along with your brother and him. It made you feel special.

However, at the age of 11, your life completely turned upside down. Your brother unexpectedly passed and it left you and hangman both completely lost. This was the time that the two of you began to pull closer together; especially on big occasions.

After that, Jake decided to be the one to always take care of you. He would walk you to school, telling you to be good and to follow the rules. Everytime he would do that he would get a massive eye roll from you and a “yes, dad!” He would just chuckle and shake his head as the two of you walked your separate ways.

Once you were 16, Jake showed up at your door way with his keys in hand a mysterious smile on his lips. “Seresin, what are you scheming?” You were wary as he motioned towards his car sitting in the driveway. “Come on. We’re gonna teach you how to drive.” You had a look of horror on your face, but you could hear your parents behind you encouraging you. Clearly something was up.

You felt the anxiety bubble up in your chest as you sat in the driver seat of his car. He slowly talked you through all the pedals and all the buttons; suggesting that you just try driving over to his families farm. You did as he told you, pride welling up in you as you successfully drove the car without crashing. You put the car in park and jumped out, running over to hug Jake so tightly that he couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. He didn’t mind, though. As long as you were happy, he was happy.

That was why he didn’t mind your boyfriend until he ended up hurting you. It was a week before prom and he decided to break up with you to go with someone else. It absolutely shattered your heart. You were sitting in Jake’s room, both his arms wrapped around you as he let you cry into his shoulder. “I-I don’t know what I did wrong.” Your voice was fragile and broken and it hurt Jake to hear you take the blame.

He held you closer, lifting your chin with his thumb as he wiped the tears off your face. “Don’t you dare think this is your fault. He’s an idiot.” His voice was soft as he ran his other hand up and down your back, trying to soothe you. “In fact. You’re going to go to prom and you’re going to show him just what he is missing. We’re going to go together.” His words seemed to cheer you up as you smiled small at him, brushing the tears off your cheeks.

When prom rolled around, you still couldn’t believe how lucky you were. Jake showed up in a tux that almost perfectly matched your dress and he showed up with a beautiful corsage. It was like a movie, the moment you walked downstairs and his eyes landed on you. He was speechless, only a sputtered out wow managing to leave his lips. You just let out a small chuckle, walking over to him. “Did I manage to render the Jake Seresin speechless?” He just smiled and nodded, pulling you in for a hug before the two of you posed for pictures. “You look absolutely gorgeous. I’m gonna be the luckiest guy at prom.”

The two of you danced the night away, connected at the hip. Everywhere Jake went that night, he made sure you weren’t far behind. He always had his fingers laced through yours or his arm around your waist. He wanted your douchebag of an ex boyfriend to know he royally messed up. “Hey, come slow dance with me.” Jake’s breath was warm against your earlobe as he smiled and held his hand out for you. You gladly took it, allowing him to lead you to the dance floor.

He wrapped his arms around you, your head leaning against his shoulder. He bummed along to the song quietly in your ear, rocking you against him to the music. “You know you mean the world to me, right?” His blue eyes were staring down at you as you blushed and nodded. He noticed you looking away, eyes connecting with your ex as he started to walk your way. “I think it’s working Jake! You were right!” That was the night that Jake realized he wanted you to be more than a best friend, but he kept it to himself. He kept you as his Lock Screen. He had a picture of you in his jet. He had you essentially tattooed on the walls of his heart and he had everyday since your junior prom.

A few months later he shipped off to the naval academy and you tried to keep in contact through letters and phone calls when possible. This was how your friendship continued through the next few years until Jake invited you to San Diego; which is where you were currently. From what you understood, his squad had just returned from a risky mission and he wanted to spend some one on one time with you before he went back to Texas and divided his time up.

The two of you could not be anymore excited. You had been in constant contact the last few days; FaceTimes and phone calls lasting hours as you reveled in the familiarity of each other. The two of you fell into easy conversation; years away now feeling like minutes. Man, had you missed each other.

As you walked through the San Diego airport you were on the phone with Jake, looking around for him as you tried to find your way around. “Where are you?” Your voice sounded distant and preoccupied as you tried to read the signs around you. “Looking at some beautiful girl. Hang on, I’m gonna go say hi to her.” The next thing you knew he hung up on you and you felt someone tap you on the shoulder. You let out a frustrated sigh as you turned around, Jake standing in front of you.

“Well hi, pretty girl. I missed you.”

Tagging some of the lovelies who seemed interested in this! @fandomxpreferences @teenwolf01 @blue-aconite @purpledianezzzzzz

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin imagine #Jake seresin fanfic #jake hangman fanfic #hangman fic #top gun maverick fanfiction #Jake seresin imagines #Jake seresin x you #jake hangman imagine #Jake hangman imagines #hangman fluff #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick imagine #Jake seresin #jake hangman seresin

[sevikasleftpussyflap]

idk about you BUT there's this one song that I got absolutely feral over bc everytime I listen to it, my brain goes 'ugh imagine Sevika saying this or thinking this whenever you're with them' or like, more nsfw: them saying stuff like this as pillow talk🥰 I'm sorry, but this scenario just absolutely knocks the wind out of me😭😅 I wanted to share with the class ig, but if this leads to headcannons I'll be flattered.

Good Little Girl sung by Kade McCuen (here's the link if you're curious, https://youtu.be/yd2pxkK2evs )

I absolutely love your work, bless you. I accidentally started a cult for Sevika a couple of months ago, so tyy for giving us holy scriptures 🧎🏼‍♀️

I want to join the cult!! And ooooo I have so many ideas for this, definitely lines up with the concepts in the multichap I’m working on

Warnings: NSFW, mentions of torture, violence, soft and playful Sev, marking and biting

Love love love the idea of Sevika being with someone considerably more kind and virtuous, where their only misdeed is being Sev’s lover.

I can see Sevika silently pondering the differences between the two of you and how it would strengthen the affection, her feelings, or whatever it was she felt for you.

Sevika carefully washing the blood off of her hands, making sure to get under her nails and the grooves of her claws before coming home to you. She wouldn’t particularly care about scaring you away (not anymore, at least) because despite your innocence, you’re not naive. You know exactly who Sevika is and love every part of her. She just knows if you assume she’s hurt you’ll fret until she’s showed you she’s fine, and that frown will remain until she has to exasperate you with genuine impatience to get you naked and beneath her.

“Honey, I’ve had a hard day. Please take your shirt off?”

You remain nonplussed at her attempts to distract you as the cut on her eyebrow still bleeds. Cool air caresses your skin from where she’s subtly trying to lift the fabric that bars her from the only remedy she needs. A slightly irritated breath hits your face as you halt those hands, staring at her with the sternest expression you can muster.

“I’ll go get the alcohol. For cleaning.”

You are Sevika’s world, so she listens to you in every situation unless there’s a threat against your life and you’re asking her not to commit atrocities to find out who it is. Besides that, your word goes and the most protest she’ll make is a slight attitude in her expression while she offers gentle alternatives. This doesn’t stop her from giving you bedroom eyes as you dress her wounds, your soft hands enough to spark desire in her as she watches you pamper her. You don’t consider basic care as “pampering,” but it still ends with Sev saying “You done? Good.” before pulling you down into her lap, back against her chest as she works her hand into your underwear and gives you her thanks. Firm, grateful kisses pepper your neck and cheeks while she renders you boneless, sagging into her hold with soft sighs and happy whines.

“You always take care of me, don’t you? Let me return the favor.”

Might I put the scenario in your mind of Sev opening a cut on her lip through hungry kisses, trailing blood down your torso, chin, breasts, and thighs until you’re covered in her. With your consent, she leaves bruises in the shape of finger and handprints along your body. Just to give you a taste of how it feels, because you’ll never have to experience being covered in blood and bruises unless it’s with her.

“So pretty.” The collar of purple and blue around your throat smarts under the faint press of her hand. All of this unmarked, pure skin available for her to stake claim to.

Also, her teaching you how to mark her up. Igniting a possessive streak in you that you didn’t know existed. Sev giving you her shoulder, her hand, her arm to bite down on as she grinds against you. Probably the roughest sex ever had between the two of you.

After a day of merciless executions and thorough tortures under Silco’s command, she knows she has you waiting at home for her, ready to jump into her arms like they’re the safest place for you to be. You’ll chirp about the food you attempted to make her, so excited about the freshly imported ingredients she was able to get you. You attempt to make her a plate with her hands pawing at your hips, lips glued to your neck while you scold her about her heinous behavior. It’s a dream of yours to have a docile, relatively normal life.

As a zaunite, you didn’t have that luxury and had to experience a peaceful existence through books and glimpses of paradise through Piltover. Sevika doesn’t share the same dreams. Admittedly, she was made of sterner stuff and adapted to her rough upbringing whereas you were significantly affected in a completely different way. You were not made for a life the Undercity had to offer. You could not thrive in the harsh environment and likely would have withered without Sevika to spoil you.

So she made your dreams a reality, as much as she could. She kept you blind from the brutalities of her job, her nature. Bled enough people to flood a town in your name, to build you the life you wanted.

Sevika, beating an enforcer bloody because they dared to hassle you during one of your rare trips around the Undercity without her. All she needed to see was your tearful eyes and the bruises encircling your wrist to set her on a warpath.

So yes, you’re her good girl. She’ll never fail to tell you that as you fall apart under her fingers, especially if she’s the first and only person to make you do so.

“Oh, that’s it. Look at that sweet face. Feels just right, huh, sweet girl?” Slick fingers retreat back to your thighs, but just for a second. Just to see the flicker of desperation cross your face before you’re overloaded with pleasure once again. She could never deny you anything, even with the burning desire to wring every depraved expression out of you, to see what a job she did on her little angel.

When she awakens that lustful side of you and has you pawing at her in public, begging her to take you home and ruin you, the teasing would be unbearable because that’s not appropriate, is it angel? She must have ruined you if you can’t go a few hours without needing her inside you. Of course you’d refute the claim, shaking your head with burning cheeks as your grip tightens on her sturdy bicep. Her eyes would narrow, seizing up your blatant lie like she does with business owners and enforcers alike on a daily basis. She’ll drag you to the back, a corner, anywhere away from prying eyes so she can unbutton your trousers. Two fingers would dip beneath your underwear, expertly finding the damp circle in the fabric that exposes your pitiful attempt at retaining some dignity. Lying now, too? She must be a bad influence.

So now she needs to take you home, tend to you because she promised she would give you everything you need even if you didn’t know what that was.

#sevika imagine #sevika x reader #arcane sevika x reader

[boxwinebaddie]

Wsg queen, I have a slightly nsfw question (I’m ashamed this is why it’s anon) sooo, I need to know what the situation with the hickeys is, like a scenario where Sheila sees Kyle with one!! Or a AU where Stan and Kyle have to keep their relationship a secret

Anyways love u Nina!!!

wsg queen ( or whatever monarch your gender expression suits, i was just mirroring you ) i have a slightly nsfw answer, lmaoooo! just kidding, it is very tame and nothing i wouldn't write into pep, tbh. they like...lightly elude to things...but i am a woman of class, i swear!

side note: i think it's really funny that you guys are worried about your identities and sending in anons because...if i am honest...i have almost no idea who each of you are just based on your tumblr urls. like, i can kind of guess, but i'm still convinced i will be wrong haha!

anyways, i am a show not tell writer girlie, so *collective surprised gasp* i wrote something...which really is just dialogue and occasionally some written action because i got too lazy to finish it...again * second surprised collective gasp* SHOCKER!

i kind of fused both together for you. i swear to god it's not risque, tumblr leave me alone, bitch! they are just a little spicy and make out a little in the beginning and flirt a lot! but mostly they are just bickering like an old married because they are! young and not married but also old and married when they are dating!!!!

like if anything it got sad for a minute there...yeesh! lighten up, nina!

but here you go, i hope this answers your morally and sexually dubious ask message. please...again...laugh. help. *jazz hands*

( also no none of this is spelled right, who do u think i am?!

edit: please be nice to me, i forgot to mention i wrote half of this on my bathroom floor, alternating k.pedialyte, apple sauce and crackers fighting food poisoning...always make sure to check your burgers are cooked all the way through my darlings! if they are half baked like my brain...you will be sick! and not in the cool way, i fear! xoxo - nina )

Any exit through the passenger side door of Stan’s steel blue Toyota Prius had been rendered inoperable by a tall, lanky redhead that had been pushed up against the inside of it by the boy that owned the vehicle, but belonged endlessly to the other boy…whose cherry-flavored chapstick he was now wearing and spreading quite liberally and lasciviously across hungrily boy-bitten lips. It had been a ‘Good Luck’ kiss which, of course, had turned into several, resulting in a Good Luck M a k e o u t session, that was progressing as quickly as the faux blonde's hands and mouth were, up the slope of Kyle’s cheek, down the slant of his jaw, before landing with great care…

…wear and tear…on…

“Mmmmmmmm. I—St—Stan, my neck! My neck! MY N E C K!” 

Once the heavenly mint-scented mist that was clouding his sound, future lawyer judgment and the dirty window behind his wild auburn hair, which Stan was whispering sweet-spicy nothings into, Kyle swerved hard, taking a rigid right into the front of the dash before all Hell broke loose, nearly breaking said neck in the process. 

“Hmmmm…Your neck, your neck, your ne~”

Stan had worshiped against supple, spotted skin before being disengaged from his place of prayer with a loud POP! and sailing straight into the seatbelt, now smeared with spearmint. 

As he got his bearings, the breathless boy had made a disappointed and surprised sound somewhere near the sharp shoulder blade of his super best boyfriend -- who was currently being super lame -- and sassed with exasperation, crossing his arms over his chest -- across which were the dark green and white emboldened letters of Kyle’s last name and jersey number. 

And while Kyle constantly reprimanded Stan for stealing his clothes…Stan constantly countered that he would return his best friend’s clothes if his boyfriend returned his stolen heart to him…

…No such luck.

“Excuse me! I wasn’t done!”

Stan had tried to argue ( complained, really ), attempting to resume his passionate, very handsome, very angry, personal art project, which earned him a swift, punitive pinch from the other boy’s hand which Kyle had flattened over the empty place where Stan’s alleged ‘stolen heart’ used to be as he banished him back to the driver’s seat ( and Super Best Boyfriend Jail ) for his indecency and insolence with steam practically billowing out of his ears and his jaw twitching aggressively. 

Kyle Broflovski spoke slowly and sternly, if only to keep his breathing even enough to speak. 

“...If you just did what I THINK you just did: you are v e r y done.

Done for.”

Then, reaching up towards the rearview mirror, Kyle tilted it towards him with a flinch, screwing his eyes harshly shut in silent, stalking fear, before mustering up the courage and constitution to look at his reflection with his eyes…which fell wide open with his jaw at the sore sight. Literally.

“Ohhhhh my FUCKING—“

Suddenly flooded with dread and horror, Kyle suctioned a hand over his mouth to trap the rest of that scream…and several obscenities as he turned his head towards Stan with a pained, robotic stiffness and a voice so frighteningly hospital sterile that was ten times scarier than him yelling. 

“S t a n.” 

The 'Stan' in mention…and trouble…( **again )…gulped loudly before smiling nervously over at his boyfriend, who looked particularly murderous ( and ravishing, unfortunately ) at that heated moment, before resting his chin on his hands…which he formed into a heart shape. Oops.

“...Yes, baby?”

Stan’s parked car SHOOK with the intensity of Kyle Broflovski’s crescendoing anger and disbelief. 

“YOU GAVE ME A FUCKING HICKEY!?”

Stan played with the rings on his left hand. And dumb. 

“Oh, myyyyy bad! Did you want another one? I know symmetry is good for your OCD.”

Flirting, however, did not work the way it usually did in this situation and actually ended up hurting him as Kyle slammed the lever of Stan’s leaned back driver’s seat forward and watched as it WHACKED! him right in the back of his head. 

Served him right. 

“OW! KYLE!” Stan whined morosely, cradling the back of his head like he hadn’t nearly cracked it several times in the mosh pit carelessly last weekend. 

“STANLEY MARSH.” Kyle pronounced with spine-chilling severity, as for one minute of mercy, Kyle tore his glare off of Stan, who he would certainly tear to shreds soon, as he examined his once pale neck where a large purple bruise now swirled like a giant kiss-swollen black hole.

“Whaaaaat?!” He protested with a pronounced, pepperminty pout, acting angelic and gesturing to Kyle demonstratively as he relayed the crass, cheeky claim of: “I had to sign my masterpiece!” 

Then, fashioning his hands into a sectioned square, like he was talking a polaroid picture, Stan framed his 'signature' with a smirk. 

“Pretty good, right? Think I should apply to some art schools?”

Kyle…did not return his jest.

Kyle was livid at best as he wiped his sweaty, shaking hands on his freshly-dry cleaned slacks and toyed with the collar of his dress shirt, as the universe and Stanley Marsh toyed with his emotions…and the fate of his academic future with no remorse. 

“YOU — I don’t — I don’t even have TIME to strangle you right now! My HARVARD INTERVIEW is in TEN minutes!”

He scathed behind his bared teeth, with his eyes darting between him and the building that bore his fate. Which…someone…had sealed with a kiss. 

“Was that today? Ohhhhh nooooo~…” Stan scratched the top of his head and seemed very busy suddenly studying one of millions of rips in his ripped jeans, whistling innocently.

Kyle turned the key into the ignition just to lay on the horn for thirty whole seconds. Stan winced.

“Don’t even TRY IT, bitch! You literally drove me here!” 

Kyle took the key out of the ignition, but still made sure to look his boyfriend dead in the eye as he said, with an anger that was sizzling off his skin,

“…But you know what you’re driving me right now?”

Stan fluttered his eyelashes frivolously and flirtatiously.

“…Absolutely wild with desire?”

“CRAZY! IN-FUCKING-SANE!” 

“But in a, like, ‘You can’t stop thinking about me and want to kiss me so bad’ way, right?...Riiiight?”

Then, mirroring the prior comedic timing of Kyle yanking the lever to Stan’s seat forward, just as he leaned back, Kyle pulled it, instead, backwards and Stan crashed backwards. Again. He snorted.

“OW! FUCK. OFF! QUIT IT, DUDE!”

“I will when you quit S t a n - b o t a g i n g my COLLEGE INTERVIEWS!”

“I did NOT!” “If I was going to Stanbotage your college interview…I would have given you waaaaay more.” “Which there is still time for, by the way! I can get a lot done in ten minut—“

Stan tried to lean over the center console to finish what he had started, but Kyle deflected him with his long arms and a sheet…well, a brick really…of printed papers that had 170 possible interview questions and possible answers on it…that Kyle had researched religiously.

“Ah, ah, AH! Nice try! Stay back, you succubus!” He raised his nerdy script like it was a lit torch. “You have done more than e n o u g h.”

Then…Kyle hit the panic button, hypothesizing hyper-pathetically, vibrating with stress and anxiety.

“OhmygodOhmygodOhmyGOD! What am I going to tell them?! Sorry, Harvard! I was just minding my own business when I was tonsil-tackled by our hormonal high school football captain! Or—or that I was viciously ATTACKED by a really hot, fake blonde part-time record store employee, who also happens to be my full-time secret boyfriend who also decided to BRAND ME LIKE CATTLE BEFORE MY EXTREMELY IMPORTANT COLLEGE INTERVIE—“

Stan chimed in for…what would possibly be his last time. Ever. On Earth. He held up a pretty boy peace sign, hoping it would deter the violence that his words were about to incur upon him.

“…Sorry, ADHD. I only caught the part in the middle about you thinking I’m really hot.” “But will you say it again, anyways?”

Kyle h i s s e d and Stan blew a kiss in his direction. It was their regular call and response.

“You could always…put me down as a reference…for an extracurricular activity.” He offered generously.

Kyle narrowed his eyes at his super best friend turned super worst boyfriend suspiciously.

“You…an extracurricular activity?”

“Yeah, y-you know!”

Stan snapped his fingers with false confidence, rattling off as many large, impressive vocabulary words as he could remember…with…strange but surprising accuracy.

“O-One that requires…dedicated…t-team building, s-sometiiiimes…arduous…pun…punctilious! Uh! T-Time management…The…the bolstering of efficacious intrapersonal…relationships…vigorous cardiovascular exercise and…uh...Flexibility?”

Kyle studied Stan, dream boy, nightmare boy, in stunned silence for a while…somewhere between deep adoration and admonition.

“Okay…Very…good word choice, but very poorly timed execution.”

“That is noooooot what you said last ni—“

“If you value your l i f e, you will NOT finish that sentence.”

Stan smiled, winding right up.

Oh, he had been ready for this one.

“Good thing I don’t!” 

Stan shot Kyle a shameless finger gun and wink combo which Kyle re-directed towards his own head, taking off the safety and emptying the imaginary bullets rapidly into his OWN skull, which he looked like he wanted to smash open with the car door.

“You know what? Forget Harvard. What am I going to tell my MOM!?”

“Tell her your ‘really hot��� boyfriend did it.”

Kyle’s eye twitched and his nostril flared as he glared unblinkingly.

“Okaaaaaaaaay, ouch. Tell her your really ugly, hideous boyfriend who you hate did it!”

“Can you please be SERIOUS about this!?”

“Oh, you want me to be serious? Okay: you got it! I think it’s seriously fucking ANNONYING that you are grilling me for ONE hickey when you’ve given me…You like MATH, Kyle! Let’s c o u n t."

Stan's voice took on the excruciating elementary snail pace and nauseating faux-sweetness that would probably be used by Steve on Blues Clues.

"One, twooooo, three…”

“Oh my GOOOOD, St—“

“Four, five —ooh, big fan of five — six…”

“Look, I—“

“Yeah, Let’s L O O K! Let’s take a good, long look because that’s seven, eight….wow, NI…You know we're getting pretty close to Double Digits, are you sure you want me to keep going?” 

“Stan…it’s different.”

“Different how? Because you’re smart and I’m not?” 

There was a beat of silence just long enough for Stan to beat himself up. 

“It’s okay. You can say it. Everyone else already does.”

Kyle’s instinctive overprotectiveness of his SBF gave way to his blind anger.

“NO, it’s NOT! And I told you not to talk about yourself like that! You are Very Smart…B-Bro.”

Stan winced and Kyle felt the full brunt of that ‘Bro’ hit him in the chest. The…B word. The nice, affectionate one was…very easy for Stan to say and rolled off his tongue effortlessly, but felt impossible for Kyle to say, causing him to freeze up and switch every time at the last second.

Ironically, Kyle Broflovski could say words with seventeen syllables in five different languages, but try as he might, he could not gather the courage or vulnerability to call his boyfriend ‘B a b y.’

 “ — And also a massive fucking pain in my ass!” He continued, deflecting. “No, it’s different because you can just say they're from Wendy and I…”

Stan exploded, but it was almost all self destructive. His voice was raw and tender like a wound. It made Kyle physically ache to hear it.

“I don’t WANT to say they’re from Wendy! I want to say they’re from Y O U !” 

Silence spanned between them and it was worse than p o i s o n.

“The hiding, the sneaking around, the lying…I HATE this shit, Kyle! I fucking hate this!”

“And you think I DON’T?!” He snapped, feeling all his sanity and resolve crumble to ash with it.

“Like I haven’t waited my entire l i f e to date you! Like this isn’t the best thing that has ever happened to me — that you aren’t the best thing that ever happened to me — and I can’t tell anyone? I just have to keep being in love with you a secret like I’ve had to for my ENTIRE LIFE!? You think I want that!?” 

The idea was so fucking twisted it made Kyle sick. He had to endure the horrible suffering that was being quietly in love with your best friend since Kindergarten and even though his best friend had finally returned his furtive feelings...he still couldn't be loud about it. But Kyle told himself that holding his tongue was worth holding Stanley Marsh. That holding him in his arms for hours in private was okay even if he couldn't even hold his hand in public for more than a couple seconds.

“It’s just — it’s too complicated right now! Do you know how much harder it’s going to be for you to get football scholarships if…If you and I…If we…People will TALK. Most of my FAMILY will talk! And they have big, stupid, CONSERVATIVE mouths that they will run on Facebook and…”

Stan was not a fighter, but if he was going to fight for something it would be L o v e. 

Or, in this case, the love of his life…who was trying to put them six feet in the ground not even six months out the gate. 

“...And you don’t think pissing off some of your family members and me losing a couple of dumb football scholarships is worth this?…US?!” 

“You KNOW that’s not what I meant! And…AND!”

He huffed, out of breath and out his m i n d as he watched his boyfriend, soon to be ex-boyfriend ( not because they were going to break up but because he was going to be broken up into tiny, indiscernible smithereens by Kyle’s wrath ) rifle through his glove box to procure a small black bag resembling a pencil case, ignoring him.

Oh, he was really going to get it this time. 

“And you know WHAT, Stan? This is just LIKE you! You would rile me up and pick a fight with me on The Most Important Day of My Life just to SPITE me and get back at me for something I can’t even fucking CONTROL! You are so CHILDISH! And IRRESPONSIB — And…And on…on top of me, v-very close to my…my face. W-What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry about what I’m doing.” He breezed without a note of explanation as he adjusted his position, which at present was practically straddling his best friend-boyfriend, as he stationed his steady hands over his slender, shaking shoulders to try and lock him into place. 

“Just stay still.”

Kyle was incredulous…and also extremely flustered. 

At that moment it was very hard for his brain to discern whether he wanted to kiss Stanley Marsh or kill him. But his body was leaning towards that first one. He scoffed, now scarlet.

“No I — I think I will be Very Worried about what you’re doing! Stan, why…why are you…in my LAP!?”

“So I can get the best angle, obviously.”

He rattled off carelessly as he carefully inspected Kyle’s face and neck with the utmost collection and calm. 

Which was…hilarious because Kyle was so nervous he thought he might be having a stroke.

“The best angle for WHAT? More s l u t t y, scandalous lip laceration of the skin above my larynx?...Stan, I only have FIVE minutes to salvage what I have left of the raging dumpster fire that is about to be my interview, you cannot SERIOUSLY BE—“

“K.P?” 

Stan cooed, stilling Kyle’s body and breathing with his hand as it cupped the side of his face preciously. Reaching up, Stan languidly tucked a ginger curl behind Kyle’s freckled ear and rouge trailed down every blessed spot that Stan’s fingertips had kissed. 

“You know I l o v e when you verbally eviscerate me…”

He quipped, using a new vocabulary word, but with a familiar friendly-fire taunt, half teasing, half tender.

“But will you please shut the f u c k up and let me do my thing?”

To which Kyle, did, in fact, shut the fuck up, but mostly because he couldn’t breathe as Stan did his thing…

Which Kyle had learned that day was m a k e u p. Trying to remain staunch in his irritation and not sway or swoon at the gentle, loving ministrations of Stan’s fingers against his skin, or how terribly cute he looked when he was biting his cheek in concentration, humming beautifully under his breath as he worked.

Then, with a snap! of a makeup pallet shut and a zip of his bag closed, Stan had announced…

“There. All done.” 

Kyle studied his neck…that now hadn’t had even the whisper of a mark on it, completely shocked as he gawked at his boyfriend, secret best makeup artist and hickey obscurer. 

“...Wow. You are freakishly good at that. Like…you can’t even t e l l. Maybe you SHOULD apply to some art schools…”

Stan took a deep breath...solemn and serious and...sorry. He looked up at Kyle sheepishly, stumbling through his apology.

“Ky…” “I’m sorry for…’Stanbotaging’ your college interview.”

“And I’m sorry for yelling at you like that. You can be right…just this once.” “..But let’s not do this right now, okay? Maybe…after my interview, over lunch? When you’re not *nervous kyle throat clearing noise*…over me? Because…I’m not sure if you’re aware but…” 

He allowed himself a rare moment of humility and humanity he saved solely for Stan who, Kyle looked up and down indulgently and deliberately. 

“You can be a little d i s t r a c t i n g.”

“Been told once or twice. By a credible, red-head-able source.” He winked playfully before hopping off with a frisky lick of mint chip lips.

Stan seemed pretty pleased with that one.

But it was the calm before the storm because, in a flash, Kyle looked like he was going to pull out his hair, literally as he spiraled and backpedaled, head in his hands, fingers knotted into follicles. 

“Fuck…I am second guessing this whole thing. I — Stan? What if they don’t LIKE me? What if I’m too awkward…and curly…and mean and…Orange!?”

Stan laughed ( it was a beautiful laugh and smiled it was a beautiful smile, yeah, yeah, yeah, shut up Nina, we know slkhdad )

“It’s true…you are awkward, curly, mean and so, so ‘Orange’.”

He reassured, straightening out Kyle’s tie and massaging his shoulders soothingly.

His voice bore this same low, healing light and gentle, loving lull. 

“But you’re also…super funny, ambitious, put-together, independent, awesome and…P e r f e c t. You’re frustratingly perfect at everything you do…Be it…acing college interviews or picking secret super best boyfriends.” 

Stan nudged him suggestively with his elbow and wiggled his eyebrow at him -- recently pierced by Kenny, lovely, but a little crooked -- which, bless him, made Kyle laugh and relax a little.

“Harvard…They’d be lucky to have you….South Park is lucky to have you…I’m…lucky to have you.” “I’m usually pretty good at sharing but…Not You.” “You’ve just always been My Kyle Pile, you know? I guess…it just pissed me off that you were going to be Harvard’s Matthew comma, Broflovski, c o m m a Kyle.”

The warmth of Stan’s precious nickname for his super best boyfriend and the cold, stiffness of Kyle’s name as it appeared on his government documents was extremely stark and drastic.

Patting his shoulders once, Stan grasped Kyle’s hand with a soft sigh, squeezing slightly.

“But it was stupid and crazy of me to try and fuck with your college interview…because I could give you one hickey or one million from the top of your head down to your toes…and it wouldn’t matter. They’d still love you.” 

He dropped Kyle’s hands …and his expression at the idea, voice quiet, shivering stupidly. “They’d…”

“Hey…H e y.” 

Before Kyle lost Stan to his dark, depressing thoughts, he caught his SBF's face gently in his hands, rubbing circles into his cheeks with his index fingers fondly. “I love you, okay? So much.” Kyle pressed a kiss to his forehead, as easy as breathing.

That was not the difficult part. “I love you, B—”

This was.

He took a deep breath and focused hard like the small utterance of these four little letters was more nerve wracking to Kyle than his entire twenty page dossier of interview preparations.

“...B a b y.”

Kyle whipped his head away with his heart pounding, knowing that his face ‘looked like his hair’ when he got furious or flustered, as Stan had one time drunkenly, pointed out, but before he could undo the child lock and roll out the car window, the two excited hands of said Stan were excitedly thwarting and tickling Kyle’s shoulders as he peppered his flushed face with a tiny armada of happy kisses. 

“AAAAAAAAAAH! YOU SAID IT!!!!!!” “That was so cuuuuuuute!~ MwahmwahmwamhmWAAAAAA”

Kyle squirmed in embarrassment like a feral cat caught in a rainstorm, completely crimson. 

“Once, o n e time! ONE! I — Off, off, O F F ! Quit Stan-handling me!”

He protested poorly, attempting to cling to the mere vestiges of his aloof, unfeeling evil boy persona which was dissolving with every slight skate of Stan's sweet lips against his now salty, stress-induced, sweat-dampened skin.

But then...Stan didn't really care for dessert.

“And you know…”

Kyle mused, beneath his breath, whose sweetened undercurrent Stan's was now caught in...along with his attention. Which was nothing short of a miracle.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t give me a hickey…” He started with a purr.

“Just not up here.” Kyle ran Stan's fingertip over his neck lightly.

“Not…up…t-then…Wh--Where should I?” He looked…genuinely puzzled and eager to please.

Kyle attempted to elaborate.

“You know…Lower.”

Stan squinted. Bless him, again. And in several awkward motions, tried to fix the angle of his face.

“Low…Er? L-Lower like...an-angling my head further down like thi--this? L-Like…”

“Nooo. Like…” Kyle leaned in and every sugared, honeyed word tasted like delicious cherry candy to Stan.

“You can give me as many hickies as you want…just go…” 

As Kyle’s lips ghosted over Stan’s temple, his hot breath chilling the myriad of metallic piercings in his ear, which was an echo chamber for Kyle’s beautiful voice, he took Stan’s rough hand and ran it softly down over the slender side of his own ribcage with a seductive slowness before finally settling his super best boyfriend's hand on his hip, which he held like it was his God Given Purpose in life. 

“L o w e r.”

“OH.” Stan coughed so loudly and violently that he almost reached for Kyle’s inhaler. “O-Okie dokie!” 

Thumbs up. Oh my god. Fucks sake. Could he be more desperate and pathetic?

Apparently he could as bargained ( badly ),

“Are…Are you sure you don’t want to re-reschedule your interview? I think that extra-curricular activity might need some rekiss, I-I mean, revis—“

Kyle laughed, shaking his head. But...if you looked closely enough, and Stan often did, you could see the oft scowling, misanthropic, miserable boy smile an equally rare and ravishing Kyle S m i l e.

“GoodBYE, Stan!”

“Byeeeeee, Kyle!”

“HYH.”

Kyle held up half a stolen heart…

...And before he drove away, Stan r e t u r n e d it. 

“H Y H.”

#dont laugh at me i wrote this in like a couple hours #also i should start a TW on my account for 'stan being annoying' #tw stan being annoying #tw pep style dating and being a little spicy i guess #but mostly bc theyre abt to kill eachother all the time or kyle is #but also UR HONOR UR HONOR UR HONOOOOOR THEY ARE IN LOOOOOOVE #the hyh being their ily is very important to me #anyways they are very precious to me rip i hope u laugh hyh i think theyre so funny like smh boys embarrasing me! #also ALSO YES I THINK KYLE IS RORY GILMORE AND IS OBSESSED W GETTING INTO AN IVY #BECAUSE HE THINKS HE HAS TO AND HAS NO PURPOSE IF HE DOESNT #AND IT SCARES THE ACTUAL FUCK OUT OF STAN SO HE IS A MENACE TO SOCIETY ABT IT #BY SOCIETY I MEAN KYLE #kyles rizz at the bottom...ridiculous...help...like bestie u dont have to kill him oh my god #also kyle making stan use this english vocab...iconic behavior i luv them #stan vc Okie Dokie! #tears in my eyes #no rizz no ass no game

[writingxfootballl]

i’ll be your biggest fan (and you’ll be mine) (jessie fleming x ucla!reader)

soccer players weren’t exactly your type, but maybe you could make an exception for her.

word count: 3202 ish

rated: Y for yum and P for possibility for a part two?

title- best friend by rex orange county

a/n: wow this turned out a lot longer than i originally thought.

——

of course you knew who jessie fleming was. 

who didn’t know who jessie fleming was?

the pride of ucla women’s soccer, an olympic medalist at the sweet age of 18, and captain of the bruins. 

you knew who she was. 

but you didn’t care. 

for all you knew, athletes were cocky, annoying, stupid, and for the most part, fuck boys.

and you had no time for them.

you were in your senior year at ucla, finishing up your final few classes, and if everything went according to plan you’d be studying at oxford university next year, pursuing a PhD in mechanical engineering. 

you were also in the running for valedictorian of the class of 2019.

so safe to say, you had no time to waste. 

you took no pleasure in watching sports games of any kind, and all extra time went into reading up on other areas of interest, such as philosophy and literature. 

and quite frankly, you found sports games, especially football, a pure waste of time. 

the prospect and idea always baffled you. 

why would anyone want to watch sweaty idiots running around for 90 minutes at a time? 

not you that’s who. 

and so you went on with your year, without a care in the world. 

well besides school and your grades of course. 

and life went on. 

~~

you were having a bad day. 

like a really really really bad day. 

you had stayed up late studying, and consequently forgotten to set an alarm. 

granted it was still eight and technically you still had an hour until class, but you were panicking because that meant you had to throw your normal schedule and routine out of whack. 

so you were walk sprinting. 

in other words, walking pretty fast through the hallways. 

you were holding your heavy textbooks with one hand, and fighting your backpack strap with the other. 

the hallways were pretty empty as it was relatively early, so you didn’t look up while you were going about. 

if you weren’t so preoccupied with your bag strap you probably would’ve realized it was a bad idea. 

but you didn’t realize that until too late, when you ran right into the back of someone. 

your textbooks fell to the ground with a loud thud, and the papers in your folder went flying absolutely everywhere. 

this day was just getting worse and worse. 

you muttered a “fuck” before dropping down and trying to collect your things. 

and that’s when the person you ran into looked down and walked across the hall to collect some of your papers that had flown there. 

a soft and shy voice broke through your muttered string of curses.

“hey here’s some of your papers, i’m really sorry about that i didn’t mean to knock anything over..”

she trailed off.

you look up and the breath gets knocked out of you. 

she was… exactly your type. 

her eyes were illuminated by the window behind you, rendering them a golden honey color that made your heart melt a little bit. 

the light also emphasized her flyaways, the little pieces of hair sticking up every which way from her ponytail. 

a high blush had already found it’s way onto your cheeks, and it was mirrored on the girl’s cheeks in front of you. 

you shook your head and cleared your throat:

“um don’t worry it’s fine it was my fault anyways.”

that’s when you notice her outstretched hand holding some of your engineering notes and you add:

“thanks by the way, you really didn’t have to…”

your fingers brush a little bit when you take them from her, and you desperately try to ignore the burning sensation that lingers there. 

after helping you pack up your things, the girl in front of you holds out her hand and introduces herself. 

“hey i’m jessie.”

you take her hand shyly, ignoring the sparks flying up your arm, and grin. 

“and i’m y/n.”

the girl let out a bright smile that mirrored yours, and said: 

“i’ve gotta head to class now, but i’ll see you around sometime?” 

you nod softly and give her a wave before the girl turns and walks off. 

you stare a little longingly at her, before shaking your head and clearing your throat. 

class. right. 

~~

at the time you didn’t know that who you ran into was jessie fleming. 

in your defense, you hadn’t expected to see someone like her. 

she was blushy, a little shy, and all in all she just really didn’t fit the soccer and athlete stereotype you had created within your head. 

but lucky for you, you saw her again a week later. 

you were in the library, engineering notes strewn about on the table as you blasted classical music through one of your earbuds, the other dangling behind your ear. 

on the opposite side of the library, jessie had just walked in, scanning the tables for an empty seat. 

spotting that the one across from a girl was open, she made her way there. 

you were engrossed in what you were doing, trying to figure out why your code wasn’t running, that you didn’t notice the girl who had occupied your thoughts was making her way towards you.

you slam your keyboard in frustration, eliciting glares from the people near you, stravinsky’s danse infernal blasting in your ear.

not exactly the calmest of pieces. 

you pull out your earbuds and groan, before you bury your face in your hands. 

it’s then that a touch on the shoulder nearly makes you jump out of your skin. 

you look up and a blush immediately forms on your cheeks.

jessie’s breath hitched in surprised when you did.

“oh- hey y/n, i um seat i-“

she stumbled a little bit over her words. 

“-what i meant to say was, is this uh seat taken?”

she accompanied the end of her question with a point to the seat across from you. 

you shake your head softly, a no.

she nodded quickly, but still hesitated before sitting in front of you. 

there was no way you could focus on your work now. 

you could feel your cheeks burning as you watched the girl in front of you from the corner of your eye. 

she was wearing a bruins jersey, with a 21 plastered on the front. 

you rolled your eyes internally. a soccer fan. great. 

an idea hits you suddenly, and you type a new string of code, certain that it’d work. 

it doesn’t. 

you groan, and are on the verge of giving up when a soft voice takes you out of your thoughts. 

“hey are you okay?” 

you look up to see the concerned expression of the girl across from you. 

you blush a little at the sight. 

“y-yeah it’s just this stupid project for engineering.” 

jessie’s lips purse for a moment. 

“maybe i could take a look at it? i mean if you don’t mind- i’m an engineering major too.”

you nod graciously at the girl and slide your computer towards her. 

she takes it and with a furrowed brow, begins reading through the pages of code you’ve written. 

you take this as a chance to admire her. 

you admire the freckles that spill across her nose and cheeks. 

you admire the loose bits of hair that are too short to stay down.

and you can’t help but admire the cute, focused expression she has plastered on her face. 

your heart was beating wildly. 

the two of you stay like that until jessie smiles and you quirk an eyebrow in confusion. 

“what is it? is my code that awful?” 

“no no! your code is perfect. you just missed a semicolon in line 26 is all.” 

your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“oh.”

jessie only laughs and slides your computer back towards you. 

sure enough, everything was perfect and running smoothly. 

you smiled thankfully.

“thank you so much for doing that.” 

jessie only shakes her head. 

“oh it was nothing, don’t worry about it!” 

the two of you bashfully exchanged smiles until you cleared your throat. 

“um i should- get back to work.” 

the color rises on jessie’s cheeks. 

“right. so should i.” 

~~

it became a habit. 

the two of you spent your afternoons across from each other in the library.

when you weren’t helping each other with work, you were sneaking glances at each other, your faces as red as can be the whole time. 

you were always there first, jessie (unbeknownst to you having practice right before). 

every time it was the same thing. 

you were focused, headphones in, plugging away at the assignments in front of you. 

an hour later, almost right on the dot, you’d feel a light tap on your shoulder, and you’d turn to see the girl of your dreams standing before you. 

every time you were left breathless.

every time without fail, jessie would ask: 

“hey is this seat taken?” 

and every time you’d smile and shake your head no, inviting her to take the seat across from you, and she would. 

and sooner than later, you started looking forward to it. 

to her. 

internally, you cursed yourself for falling for someone? liking? 

it was a little soon to call it anything.

you were leaving the states in a few months right after graduation for oxford, where you’d be getting a head start on the research opportunity you’d been granted as a rhodes scholar. 

in other words, you shouldn’t be falling for someone who you’d inevitably leave in just a few months. 

well. 

that was if, and very much if, this turned into anything.

which, much to your brain’s dismay, your heart hoped it would. 

you couldn’t ignore the tension between the two of you, and you only hoped that jessie felt the same way. 

~~

as smart as you were, it somehow still didn’t click that the jessie you maybe (just maybe) had a crush on was jessie fleming. 

it was only when the dean of your class called you into his office for a meeting that you made the connection.

“miss y/ln, please, have a seat.”

you do so accordingly.

“so as you may know, it is customary for valedictorians to give a farewell address during graduation, one that is written by the valedictorian themselves.”

the dean pauses, and upon seeing you nod, continues.

“this year, you will still be able to do that, but the board of the university of california would like you to also include a section mentioning the accomplished athletes in this year’s graduating classes as well.”

it took so much effort for you to not roll your eyes at the man. 

“in fact, i’d like you to meet one of them today.”

he turns and beckons for his secretary to send the student in. 

“jessie fleming is one of our university’s greatest prides, and i hope that you will find her agreeable, as you will work alongside her in the writing of that section of the speech.”

you hear the soft padding of footsteps appear just as he finishes, the whole time expecting a cocky and arrogant soccer player to be standing there. 

so when the footsteps come to a stop and you turn to see the messy haired canadian girl there instead, the surprise showed on your face. 

jessie’s face mirrored yours. 

the dean didn’t notice any of this, and continued. 

“miss y/ln, meet jessie fleming, olympic medalist, and miss fleming, meet y/n, your valedictorian.”

~~

right after the dean dismissed you both, you walked out so quickly that jessie had to run to catch up to you.

“hey, y/n!”

your steps slowed a little bit as she ran up next to you. 

the girl’s excitement caught you a little bit off guard.

“i didn’t know you were the valedictorian! that’s amazing! congratulations!”

damn. 

even the slightest compliment from her brought a blush to your cheeks.

still, you muttered:

“thanks.”

jessie’s smile faltered a little at your brisk reply. 

“what is it?”

you hesitated before replying.

“i just didn’t know you played soccer is all.”

jessie’s eyebrows furrowed a little bit.

“is there a problem with that?”

you reply defensively. 

“no, why would there be?”

“i don’t know it just seems like there is-“

you snap. 

“i said there’s nothing. just drop it.”

jessie’s expression breaks a little, along with your heart. 

her short response acts as a testament to her feelings:

“yeah.”

you open your mouth to apologize but before you can, jessie bids you goodbye. 

“well i’ve got to go back to practice now. uh i’ll see you around.”

you just nod curtly as the canadian girl walks away.

as you watch her leave, you curse yourself internally for your behavior. 

you open your mouth to call after her but stop when nothing comes out. 

so much for turning into anything. 

~~

you in fact, did not see jessie around after that. 

she had stopped coming to the library after practice, and you tried to hide your hurt, but you clearly didn’t do it well, as it began affecting your school work. 

not that it mattered since you only had a month left until graduation. 

a few of your professors had pulled you aside to ask you about it, but you just brushed it off as a sudden case of senioritis each time.

after all, you couldn’t exactly tell them that without the girl sitting across from you, the library suddenly felt far too empty and too quiet. 

you just couldn’t focus. 

it began bothering you so much that you began hatching a plan to run into her. 

you walked the long way to your classes, but it seemed as though the midfielder knew, and was one step ahead of you. 

no matter how hard you tried, you just never seemed to cross paths. 

it got so bad that you ended up standing outside one of her classrooms. 

there was no way for her to avoid you then. 

you sat in a chair outside the environmental engineering wing reading, looking up when jessie’s voice breaks your focus. 

“what are you doing here?”

your face flushes red as you scramble to pack up your things. 

“i- uh- i’m- waiting? for uh- you?”

your answer came out as more of a question than a statement. 

jessie’s eyebrows raise in amusement before she resumes her neutral expression. 

“may i ask why?”

“uh-“

you open your mouth to tell her the truth, that she was the reason you were here, and that you liked her and wanted to ask her out and had made the stupid choice of snapping at her instead of getting to know her more and not judge her off of first impressions- 

but that wasn’t what came out. 

“um i mean we still have to work on the speech.”

you want to take that back as soon as you said it. 

jessie’s face falls slightly in disappointment, but she nods. 

“tuesday at the usual time?”

you swallow in self disappointment and nod too. 

“okay.”

~~

when tuesday rolled around, you felt like you were going to throw up. 

you really owed jessie an apology, but you didn’t know how best to tell that to her. 

but you were going to try. 

you wore your best turtleneck and jeans, despite the fact that it was LA county and 90 degrees out, and headed to the library. 

on your way there, you happened to pass by the soccer field, and by sheer luck, saw the familiar back of number 21. 

and so on a whim, you decide to walk towards the field instead of the library. 

jessie was conducting shooting drills and was so preoccupied with correcting form that she didn’t see you walking towards the stands. 

you head up towards the bleachers and sit down, your eyes never leaving the messy haired girl. 

as you sit there, you take the time to reevaluate your past biases. 

firstly, maybe not all athletes were bad.

at least jessie wasn’t. 

and secondly, you really wanted to ask her out. 

this whole time, jessie still doesn’t notice you. 

in fact, she doesn’t notice you for the entirety of the practice. 

it’s only when practice ends that one of her younger team members points you out. 

“who’s girlfriend is that?”

jessie’s eyes follow the pointed finger, heart skipping a beat when her eyes meet yours. 

you give her a little wave and she reciprocates, walking towards you in confusion. 

“what are you doing here?”

“waiting for you.”

jessie’s eyebrows quirk.

“in the heat? you could’ve waited for me in the library.”

you swallow. 

“well i wanted to um, walk with you.”

“i-“

you cut her off.

“i’m sorry.”

jessie’s face hides her expression well. 

“it’s okay.”

“no, i’m really sorry-“

you take a deep breath.

and then it all comes spilling out.

“i don’t think that i was fair to you. i looped you into the athlete stereotype i had created in my head, which now thinking about it is completely opposite to your personality, and because of that, i’ve basically blown all my chances with you. i treated you really unfairly, and i didn’t mean to snap at you the other day, i just felt dumb for liking you yet never making the connection and it was just really unfair so no, it’s not okay.”

your rant slowly comes to a halt, and you look up to see jessie’s eyebrows raised in an amused expression. 

your eyebrows, on the other hand, furrow in confusion. 

“what?”

jessie smiles. 

“say that last part again?”

“that i felt bad for treating you unfairly?”

jessie shakes her head.

“no the part before that.”

you pause to think. 

“uh i felt dumb for.. liking…you..”

your eyes go wide after realizing what you just admitted and your first instinct is to take it back.

“i-“

jessie cuts you off before you can. 

“you know it’s hot, how about we go talk about this over lunch?”

your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. 

“what?”

jessie chuckles a lightly. 

“i’m asking you on a date.”

and then your brain stops working. 

“a date? with me? like as in when-“

jessie cuts you off with a full laugh and teases:

“you’re valedictorian i thought you were supposed to be smart.”

your face turns a bright red.

“i-”

“yes a date. you know the thing that two people who really like each other do-“

“okay i know what a date is!”

“do you need me to look it up on urban dictionary for you?”

you gasp in outrage.

“i do not!”

jessie rolls her eyes and smiles widely. 

“sure, whatever you say! i’m going to go grab my stuff now, i’ll meet you at the gate?”

you nod.

when jessie turns and begins to walk away, you suddenly yell after her:

“and for your information, urban dictionary is not a reliable source of information!”

#lol sorry if this is a little long #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming #chelsea wfc x reader #chelsea wfc imagine #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt #canwnt imagine #canwnt x reader

[safarigirlsp]

Peach

Peach

Clyde Logan x Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Fluff. Humor. Birthday Special.

Author’s Note: ✨🥂 Happy Birthday to my lovely friend @gabesprincess 🥂✨

AO3 Link

Everywhere you looked, springtime painted a verdant palette of luscious greens and blooming flowers in every color of the rainbow. The afternoon air was heavy with the floral bouquet and the scent of fresh grass as you sat on your porch, the hem of your sundress blowing in the light breeze, as you waited excitedly for your new boyfriend to pick you up for your birthday. 

Still in its early stages, your relationship was budding with as much potential as the roses in your garden. Clyde Logan was always so good to you. He was kind, patient, sweet, and wonderfully gentle, his temperament at odds with his massive frame and rugged appearance. He would hold you tight in his powerful arms, gently caressing your body, as he kissed you passionately, his touch tender and soft. 

Entire evenings would be spent with a forgotten movie playing in the background while you indulged in each other. “What movie are we puttin’ on t’ ignore tonight, darlin?’” Clyde would ask you with a timid grin before he rendered you breathless, dripping, and shuddering against him long before the credits rolled. You could feel how aroused you made him too, his giant cock swollen and pressing against you through his jeans. And, oh, how you wanted him. But, innately shy and always worried about being too much for you too fast, he had yet to take things further with you. 

A rush of adrenaline shot through your veins when you saw Clyde’s truck pulling into your driveway, right on time. Clyde parked and immediately stepped out of his truck, even though you were already walking toward him. He walked to the passenger side and greeted you by bringing his hand to your cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb as he bent down to kiss you sweetly. Clyde’s kisses were the best you’d ever experienced. Somehow, they left you feeling cared for and protected, like you were the most precious thing in his world, and also weak-kneed with lust. The light scratch of his goatee contrasted with his soft lips in a way that never failed to give you goosebumps, and he was never stingy with his kisses. 

“It may be your birthday, darlin,’ but every time I lay eyes on you, I feel like I’m the one gettin’ a present,” he drawled as he pulled away from your lips. “You’re the prettiest lil’ thing I ever did see.” 

Opening the door to his truck, he reached inside and retrieved an enormous bouquet of wildflowers that he held out to you. You inhaled their scent deeply, trailing your fingers down his right forearm as you leaned in toward the bouquet he held. He was always so thoughtful. If there was ever a man who excelled at doing all of the little things just right, it was Clyde. 

“I didn’t know which kinda flowers ya liked best, but I figured you’d like somethin’ just as wild ‘n gorgeous as you are,” he said as he handed you the magnificent bouquet, adding, “Although, just between you ‘n me, I think you’re prettier.” 

Beaming up at him, you raised yourself up onto your toes to kiss him again before trotting back inside your house to put the flowers in a vase before you left. When you returned, he was holding the passenger door open for you. He ushered you in with his arm at the small of your back, closing the door behind you once you were seated inside, always a southern gentleman. 

“This has been a wonderful birthday already,” you told him as he slipped behind the wheel and the weight of his heavy body made his truck rock. 

“We haven’t even started celebratin’ it properly yet, darlin.’” He grinned at you, patting your thigh before pulling out of your driveway. “Anythin’ t’ put a smile on my girl’s pretty face.” 

Clyde never put much thought into his own birthday, other than that he needed to be on the lookout for pranks from his damned brother or surprises from his sister, neither of which he enjoyed. Otherwise, it was just another day on the calendar. But he had marked your birthday out in his mind when you first told it to him as a holiday to be celebrated, and he was going to do his damnedest to ensure that your first birthday spent with him would be your best. 

He had looked up everything there was to do in the county that might be fun or unique. Hell, he had even bought a couple new shirts and jeans to look extra good for you. A couple of dressy ones like he hated to wear and some t-shirts that fit him a little bit better since you seemed to like the size of him so much. Anything that made you want to touch him more and snuggle up against him was just fine by him. He was dressed nicer than usual for you today in new jeans and a sky blue shirt that fit him well. 

Today, Clyde was taking you to a springtime fair that was put on by one of the big farms on the outskirts of town. The farm owners always set up a whole festival at the huge old farmhouse. They had all sorts of things from kissing booths to dunk tanks, and plenty of farm-fresh pastries and goodies. 

Beauty surrounded you as you drove through the colorful wooded mountains. Conversation flowed easily between the two of you and Clyde stole glances at you with a shy smile whenever the road allowed. You saw the huge three-story farmhouse and even larger red barn as you approached the turn off. Tall rows of corn and green hay fields stretched across the property as far as you could see, oceans of green and gold, framed by trees on either side. 

Excitement gleamed in your eyes as Clyde turned into the farm’s driveway, and if that didn’t make his heart melt a little, that he’d done right and made you so happy. His chest swelled with pride at the sight of you so happy. 

Once parked, Clyde exited first to walk around to open your door. You were still getting used to his genteel customs after having been gently scolded a few times, “A lady shouldn’t ought to be openin’ doors or carryin’ things when there’s an able-bodied man in her company.” 

You took his offered hand as you walked towards the entrance. Clyde raised your hand to his lips briefly before lacing his giant fingers through your own, “I’m one lucky sonofabtich to get to be seen out with the prettiest girl in the world.” 

“You’re ridiculous, but I’m excited to have a good time with you.” You smiled up at him, hoping he caught the double meaning behind your words. He did, returning your smile with a shy one of his own, before walking up and buying a roll of tickets for the various activities. Once getting through the line, he looked over at you and asked what you wanted to do first.  

“I have the perfect thing in mind to do first,” you said excitedly, looking toward the kissing booth, complete with an old fashioned sign, a fresh flower backdrop, and a timed camera. “Pucker up handsome.” 

“I was worried ya might suggest that right off.” Clyde affected a mostly playful pout as he let you drag him ahead by his hand toward the dreaded floral booth. “This looks like some sort a’ set up right off a’ that wretched Pinterest thing you’re always lookin’ on.” 

“Yes!” You tugged him forward, happy to see there was no line. “Isn’t it beautiful?” 

“It won’t be once I’m inside the damned thing,” he mumbled, eyeing the crafted frame that couples were supposed to sit behind to frame themselves and calculating how to maneuver his enormous body to not look absurd and ruin the picture with you. 

Behind the kissing booth was a pair of stools. You pushed Clyde down onto one and set the other aside. His lap was a much better seat than a stool, and much more fitting for the setting. You felt his body stiffen when you perched on his lap, throwing one of your arms around his neck. It only took him a second to recover from the pleasant shock and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his lap. 

For the first photo, he looked at the camera with a demure smile. The second photo caught him nuzzling his nose into your neck and hair. By the third photo, he was kissing your ear and on the fourth he was teasing it between his teeth. For the final photo, you turned to capture his lips properly, kissing him deeply for the camera. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you asked as you both exited the kissing booth. 

“I guess I’ll live, if that’s what you’re askin.’” He grinned at you with a pink blush on his cheeks. 

After collecting your pictures, you looked around for your next activity. Something across the park had caught Clyde’s attention and he stood tall, looking over the head of every other patron in sight to look at something that had drawn a laughing crowd. 

“How do ya feel about checkin’ out the dunk tank?” he asked you with a sideways smirk. Without waiting for your answer, he enclosed your little hand in his huge calloused one and brought it to his lips to kiss your knuckles sweetly. He rubbed the scruff of his goatee against your skin as he did, intentionally tickling you. 

Walking across the fairgrounds, you smiled when you saw where Clyde was leading you. Ahead of you was the dunking booth with the longest line you had seen so far at the fair, composed mostly of kids wanting to try their hand at dunking the hapless man who sat on the seat above the water tank. It was part of a fundraiser for Sadie’s school and the hapless man on the seat was Jimmy. 

As Clyde stepped up to the line, he locked eyes with Jimmy over the heads of the kids, smirking at him just enough to let Jimmy know his dry days were numbered. Clyde held you close to his side while you waited in line, his huge arm wrapped around you, looking down at you with a soft smile as you waited for your turns. Jimmy squirmed in his seat more and more with every kid who missed their shot and every position Clyde advanced in line. By the time Clyde reached the front of the line for his turn, Jimmy was glaring daggers at him. You were sure there’d be expletives flying already, but for the youth of most of the audience. 

“What the hell are ya doin?’” Jimmy asked accusatorily when Clyde finally stepped up to the line, taking the first softball the teenage attendant handed him. “This is a game for kids!” 

“Looks like I meet the height requirement,” Clyde deadpanned. “So, looks to me like I’m free to play along.” 

Raising his right hand with the softball, Clyde paused as a thought occurred to him, looking down at you, “I just had a real fun idea, darlin.’” Lowering his head, he brought his lips to your ear, whispering huskily, “If ya knock that damn brother a’ mine into that tank, I’ll give ya somethin’ extra nice for your birthday.” 

“What do you have in mind?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

“Well, I can’t go n’ spoil the surprise for ya, now can I?” he teased you with a playfulness that he had just gotten bold enough to employ with you. 

Clyde handed you the large softball and rested his hand at the small of your back. His simple touch exhilarated you and you had to breathe deep to steady your hand before taking aim. As you raised your hand, Clyde lowered his, skimming his touch down your back to trace his fingers over the swell of your ass, making you inhale sharply with excitement. 

Watching you both from his precarious seat, Jimmy just shook his head in sullen judgment. 

Drawing your arm back, you threw the softball hard, spurred on by the rush Clyde gave you. The white ball struck the metal bullseye target dead center, dinging a cheerful bell, and tripping Jimmy’s seat to dump him unceremoniously into the water tank. Sputtering, cursing, and splashing, Jimmy erupted from the surface. The horde of child onlookers hooted and cheered with delight, clapping their hands. 

“That’s my girl!” Clyde cheered and smacked your ass before lowering himself to kiss you deeply. “I knew ya had an arm on ya.” 

Wrapping his arm around your waist this time instead of merely reaching for you hand, Clyde led you away toward the next attraction, nodding cockily at his brother. Jimmy only shook his head at Clyde in a silent promise to get even, before smiling for the kids, wiping the water off his face, and climbing back into his seat. 

“Did you see that sign for fresh pie?” you asked, bumping your shoulder against his side as you walked. 

“My favorite.” Clyde smiled affectionately down at you, steering you toward the pie stand. “I always get hungry just lookin’ at you, darlin.’”

Jerking your head to look at him, you wondered for a moment if he had just made a slip of the tongue, but the wink he gave you left no doubt. Waiting in line at the pie stand, Clyde stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He held you with his firm body pressed to your back and dropped his head to kiss your neck. The smells of freshly baked pies filled your nose and Clyde groaned in pleasure when he deeply inhaled the same scent. 

“What kind do you want?” you asked over your shoulder when you got to the front of the line, bumping your ass back against him. 

“Peach,” he growled near your ear. “I could eat a peach for hours.” 

You placed the order, smiling at the older woman who looked at the pair of you judgmentally. Not that you cared. Taking two slices of pie, you and Clyde walked to one of the nearby tables. Clyde sat right beside you, pressed close. 

The pie was the best you’d ever tasted, the ripe peaches tangy and sweet, and the filling thick and syrupy. Clyde hummed pleasantly at the first taste, grinning at you. He reached his right hand to your chin, using his thick index finger to tilt your face up toward him into the perfect angle for kissing. His eyes glinted warmly in the afternoon sunlight as he looked down at you when he brought his lips to yours. Turning into him, you ran one of your hands across his broad shoulders and wrapped your arm around his neck. Clyde’s kiss was chaste at first, until he felt your mouth open as you moaned against his lips. He needed no other invitation to deepen the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth as his pillowy lips caressed your own. Clyde was a wonderful kisser, his mouth always drew sighs and moans from you easily, and now he tasted like sugary peaches. 

When your fingers twisted into his wavy black hair and tugged him further into your kiss, it was Clyde’s turn to groan. You realized that he loved the feeling of having his hair pulled so, of course, you did it harder the next time. You fisted into Clyde’s hair and pulled him roughly against your mouth, biting his lower lip playfully when you pulled back.  

“This ain’t exactly where I thought havin’ some pie with ya would go, darlin,’ but I’m not complainin’,” Clyde whispered into your skin as he dropped his head to kiss your neck. He brought his right hand to your thigh, running it high up your leg until it slipped beneath the hem of your sundress. Your legs spread open further, encouraging him to move his hand fully between them as he kissed your neck. 

The heat of your arousal had already dampened the fabric of your panties and Clyde grinned against your neck when he teased his fingers against the moist gusset. Pride swelled in his chest as much as his cock swelled in his jeans from knowing the effect he had on you. His kisses against your throat turned wet as his tongue slicked your skin, followed by gentle bites, making your thighs tremble. 

“Reckon’ we should go n’ see what other trouble we can ourselves into?” he asked before placing a hot lingering kiss below your ear and sucking your skin lightly. 

“As long as it’s this much fun, handsome.” You smiled, leaning into his touch. 

“What I have in mind will be even more fun, don’t you worry.” He pulled back to smile at you affectionately. “But now that I think about it, I might need t’ sit here just a few more minutes.” Taking your hand, he moved it to the fly of his jeans, grinning in amusement, when you felt his enormous erection straining against the fabric. He was lucky his lap was mostly concealed by the table you both sat at. There wasn’t much chance of concealing a cock that big if he was standing up. 

******************************************************************************************* 

The horizon glowed orange with a fiery sunset when you finally pulled away from the farm. A full yellow spring moon was just rising, looking unnaturally large on the blazoned horizon. The air had cooled and the humidity dipped, making the air feel crisp and pleasant. 

“There’s a place I’d like to take ya tonight, darlin.’ Bein’ as how we’re out this way, I know a real pretty spot up in the mountains where ya can see the stars shine.” He paused, chewing his lip, “If ya don’t mind stayin’ out a little bit later.” 

“I’d love to.” Excitement flooded you, hoping he had more planned for the evening. 

Taking a dirt road off the main highway, you wound through the curvy back roads of the West Virginia mountains until Clyde pulled off at a small clearing, backing in so that the bed of his truck faced away from any unlikely traffic that might traverse the lonely road. You followed him out of the truck, watching as he took some thick blankets and pillows out of the backseat before spreading them out in the bed of his truck. He made sure to cover the metal surface almost completely before reaching to your waist and hoisting you up into the truck bed. He followed right after you, crawling in and flopping down beside you on his back with a grin. 

Lying beside Clyde on a thick pillowy pile of blankets in the bed of his truck with your head resting on his chest, rising and falling with his deep breaths, you gazed up at the sky. It was now fully dark, but the moon was full and bright, and the stars shimmered like diamante against the navy black sky. His left arm was under you, holding you tight against him while his hand covered your own, pinning it to his chest. 

“It’s a good thing it’s dark out here, darlin.’ If I could see ya better, I wouldn’t even be able to look at the stars. You’re the prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered into your hair as he kissed your hairline. 

“This has really been a perfect day, Clyde.” You leaned up enough to prop yourself up on Clyde’s chest and look down at his handsome face. You traced a finger down the long arched bridge of his nose as you smiled at him. “But, I know what I want for my real birthday present.” 

Clyde’s eyes sparkled with lust in the moonlight as you trailed your finger over his plush lips, down his throat and his thick chest until you reached his belt buckle. His breath hitched before moving his hand to the nape of your neck, encouraging you to meet his lips. He kissed you deep and slow, his tongue igniting sparks shooting from your mouth down to your dampening core. Your hands began to fumble with his belt buckle and he groaned into the kiss, quickly moving his lips down to your neck before you finally got his belt undone. 

As you popped the button on his jeans, he teased your neck, groaning as you pulled the zipper down. He was already hard and throbbing when you slipped your hand inside his jeans and gave him a good stroke. It was the first time you had touched his cock, it was long and thicker than you could grip your fingers around. 

The feel of him excited you and you wanted him now. Removing your hand from his jeans, you pulled your panties down and tossed them aside, leaving yourself bare beneath your dress. Clyde helped you shove his jeans down his hips enough to free his massive cock.  

“Happy birthday, indeed.” You couldn’t hide your hungry expression as you looked at his cock for the first time. Clyde saw your lusting gaze and his cock twitched in response. You moved to straddle his hips, but his hand reached for your waist, stopping your movement.  

“I want t’ make sure you’re good n’ ready for me, darlin,’” Clyde told you, his voice hoarser and deeper than you had ever heard it. “I don’t want to hurt ya. I want your little pussy to be drippin’ wet for me before I try fittin’ inside a’ ya.” He smirked up at you and nudged you forward with his hand at your waist. “Besides, I wanna taste a’ my girl. I told ya, I could eat a peach for hours.” 

Excitement pooled in your abdomen as you crawled up Clyde’s huge body. You paused when you straddled his chest, looking down at him to make sure he actually wanted you to keep going. Clyde only grinned up at you and grabbed your ass with his hand and put his arm behind your back, shoving you forward until your pussy was positioned over his mouth. 

Dragging his hot tongue through your folds, he groaned in pleasure at his first taste of you. “You’re even sweeter than a peach, darlin,’” he praised into your pussy, smiling when he heard you moan.  

You were already grinding your hips against him while your hands had moved to entangle themselves in his hair, tugging on the long raven locks which earned you a loud groan from the man beneath you. Within minutes, you were writhing above him and your thighs quivering around his head as your walls began to clench against each other. Feeling the response of your body, he moved his lips to your clit, sucking you heavily. It was only seconds before you were falling over the edge, throwing your head back and all but shouting his name into the night. 

Smiling up at you with self-satisfaction, his lips and goatee shone with your arousal when you slid back down over his hips. You grabbed the thick base of his cock as you positioned yourself above him, grinning when his hips rutted up against your entrance. 

“Let me take ya for a ride, darlin,’” he said as he bucked his hips playfully beneath you, catching his velvety tip in your entrance. You sank down on his length and sighed as he filled and stretched you in a way that you’d never felt before. He choked out a moan as his hands flew to your hips, gripping tightly as you began moving up and down on top of him. 

“Christ, you’re fucking big,” you laughed at just how good he felt inside you. “This thing should come with a warning.” 

“I told ya that I wanted to get ya nice n’ wet for me,” he growled up at you, his voice strained with pleasure. “Goddamn your little pussy’s so fuckn’ tight,” he groaned deeper as you rode him, making his truck squeak in time with your rhythm. “I dunno how my cock’s even fittin’ inside a pussy this tight.” 

“Fuck me harder,” you whined as you bounced on his cock, riding him with everything you had until your thighs were burning. “Make me yours.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Clyde smiled wickedly up at you.  

Clyde pulled you down against him, pressing your tits against his chest, and quickly rolled with you, his arm pinning your thigh against him and his hand supporting the back of your neck. Your head spun with the swiftness with which you found yourself underneath him, his cock never slipping out of you. He hooked his arm under your knee hiking your leg up to rest high on his hip, allowing him to drive his cock deep into you and stroke against the best spots inside of you with each powerful thrust. He fucked you hard, the entire truck bouncing with the force of him pounding into you. 

Your head pressed back into the blankets, Clyde’s name falling from your lips in a lewd moan, as your back arched into his chest. He was propped up on his elbow, the only thing keeping him from crushing you, his hand rested by your head. His thumb gently brushed your cheek, soft and sweet, in stark contrast to his hips pistoning his giant cock into you with unrelenting slams, just the way you asked him. He felt so good fucking you hard and rough.  

“Does my lil’ darlin’ like that?” Clyde’s voice was low and husky as he panted between thrusts. “You like me fuckin’ you hard, splittin’ your pretty pussy open with my big cock?” 

“Oh, fuck, yes!” you whined. “Keep fucking me just like that!” 

Clyde was huffing now with each thrust, sweat beading on his forehead. “I know ya like it. I can feel your pussy tightnin’ up on me. Squeezin’ my cock like ya were made just for me.” 

Reaching to his thickly muscled arms, you held him tight as he drove into you with everything he had, making your walls clench around his girth as your second orgasm quickly approached. He knew exactly how to fuck you and how to angle his cock to rub against all the best spots inside you, quickly throwing you over the edge and into a second orgasm, this one even more intense than the first, your pussy tensing hard around him in waves.  

“Fuck, darlin,’” Clyde grunted, his cock beginning to throb as he fucked you through your high. “I’ve never felt anythin’ better than feelin’ ya cum on my cock like that.” He pounded his cock into you until his hips stuttered against you, burying his cock as deep as possible. He growled as he pumped his cum into you, coating your inner walls with his thick hot release. 

Relaxing some of his weight on you, he sighed contentedly as you ran your hands over the broad expanse of his back. After a moment spent catching his breath, he leaned down to meet your lips in a tender kiss. Clyde kissed you slowly and deeply, bringing his hand up to stroke your cheekbone sweetly, and he couldn’t keep a grin from tugging at the corners of his mouth as he kissed you. You ran your fingers through his sweaty hair and traced your nails along his neck and shoulders, making him only grin wider.  

When Clyde pulled back to gaze lovingly down at you, he asked you quietly, “Was that good for ya, darlin’?” 

“No, it wasn’t good,” you said as you stroked his hair. “It was fucking incredible, Clyde” 

A huge toothy smile beamed on his face, wider than any you had seen grace his features before. His eyes were full of pure adoration as he looked down at you. 

“Will ya come home with me tonight?” Clyde asked with a shyness that was almost comical after he had been telling you cum on his cock only a few minutes prior. He chewed his lip, before continuing with a small mischievous smile, “I don’t see any good reason why we shouldn’t keep celebratin’ your birthday all night. I can cook ya up some pretty good bacon for breakfast, too.” 

“I hope tonight isn’t just a one-time birthday special,” you teased him back. 

“I’ll fuck ya like it’s your birthday every day of the year, darlin.’” Clyde leaned in to kiss you again.

*******************************************************************************************

© safarigirlsp 2022 

Tagging some buddies! @mrs-gucci @mrs-zimmerman @iamburdened @gabesprincess @reborn-rekall @maybe-your-left @rynwritesstuff @candycanes19 @caillea @queeniebee @mythrielofsolitude @ghoulian13 @icarusinthesea @darkhairedmenrule @reyloaddict55 @fizzywoohoo @heartlight-starlight @richbrittstein @clydesfavoritegirl @emi11ie @bensolodyad @danidanisara @thepalaceofmelanie @celiholland @durangoninetyfive @gotham-city-uber-driver

#my stuff! #my writing #summer #valentine #best #fic #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #Clyde

[ptergwen]

you know that one scene in ffh when people keep knocking on the door while fury is trying to speak to peter? could you maybe do something like that but instead it’s peter and stark reader wanting some alone time (you can make it smut or fluff idm!) also, i am so in love with your work it’s amazing :)❣️

knock before you enter

w/c: 1.3k

warnings: implied smut, dirty jokes, swearing

a/n: i went a lil overboard because i was having too much fun :,) and i kinda combined the two i hope that’s okay!

-

you let out a breath of relief as peter finally presses his lips to yours. he grins at that, his hands continuing to roam your body while you kiss. it’s a needy kiss, one you’ve been waiting the whole day to share.

you’d thought europe of all places would give you the opportunity to explore each other more. you’re away from your overbearing father, you don’t have team responsibilities. there was one mishap with a water monster nearly destroying the city. you both managed to fight it off together. tony was right to make you bring your suit, and may encouraged her nephew to do the same. the stark’s and parker’s think alike.

most of the pestering you’ve faced this trip has come from your teachers and fellow classmates. whether it’s mr. dell assigning work or flash trying to film you two for a livestream, you and peter can’t get a moment alone. that’s about to change. you’re in peter’s hotel room after a fun yet highly supervised day in venice.

most kids are getting ready for bed, at mr. harrington’s request. he’s adamant on everyone having a good night sleep before the walking tour you’re taking tomorrow. you and peter plan to do everything but sleep, however.

“you taste like toothpaste,” peter mumbles against your mouth, arms winding around your back. “is that a good or bad thing?” you giggle and tug at his undone curls. that elicits a high pitched whine from him. “depends on who you ask. me personally, i think it’s sexy.” he’s laying over you on his bed, your fingers tangling in his locks. “open up, then,” you practically purr. peter happily obliges and resumes his kissing.

right when his tongue glides over your lower lip, there’s a knock on the wall.

“i thought you said ned wouldn’t be back…” your words trail off when peter starts to kiss down your neck. “for a while,” you add, softer. “he won’t. last time i checked, he was with betty,” peter replies and effortlessly finds your sweet spot. he nudges it with his nose, making a smile spread across your face. “ok, keep going,” you pull on the roots of his hair gently. peter pecks at your lips. “gotcha, baby.”

he’s kissing his way back to your sweet spot when there’s more knocking, this time much louder. with quirked eyebrows, peter detaches his lips from your skin. “um… hello?” he hesitantly answers. “finally. i was ready to come kick down your door, you idiot,” mj speaks through the thin wall. you squeeze your eyes shut in annoyance, not saying anything. “what do you want, mj? it’s late,” peter sighs back.

“so what? i know you’re not sleeping,” mj insists, leaning against the wall. “i can hear everything. hey, y/n.” peter’s face tints a light shade of pink. you make wide eyes up at him. “hi, i guess. you good over there?” her lips form a line. “i was until the horrendous sounds of parker clapping your cheeks disturbed my reading.” peter grips at your waist with a pout.

“what? we weren’t- i- i didn’t-“ “spare me the details,” mj sharply cuts in, opening whatever mystery novel she recently bought. “i don’t care what you do, as long as you do it quietly. deal?” seeing as peter is too flustered to speak, you take over again. “yeah, sorry. we’ll tone it down. goodnight, em.” “ciao,” she says before returning to her book.

peter shakes his head, fully burying his face in your neck. “that was embarrassing. she’s so…” “nosy,” you finish for him. your fingers brush back some hair that flopped over his forehead. “at least she’s not telling on us or whatever.” he puffs air out of his cheeks, placing a kiss under your chin. “true. you wanna pick up where we left off?” “ugh, yes,” you instantly groan.

your lips are colliding with peter’s again, just like that. it isn’t for too long. his hands settle on your stomach and under your shorts, then you hear someone banging on the door. they talk before either you or peter can tell them to fuck off.

“y/n, is that you?” brad questions, your face twisting in confusion. “uh, yeah. how’d you know?” peter bites the inside of his cheek while brad converses. “i stopped by your room. betty said you might be here… with him.” the him in question is peter, who chuckles bitterly. “what’s up, buddy? we’re kind of in the middle of something. i’m sure you knew that, too.”

“i didn’t, but thanks for sharing,” brad sarcastically responds. “y/n said she’d give me her notes on one of the da vinci exhibits.” peter cocks his head to the side. “she did?” he wonders, looking over at you. “you did?” “it was either that or help him myself,” you explain and drag your fingers along the back of his neck soothingly. “the kid doesn’t leave me alone.”

peter nods, wrapping a protective arm around your middle. “she’ll give you them tomorrow, brad. isn’t it past your bedtime?” “point taken,” brad scoffs and heads back to his room. you draw peter in closer to you. “thanks, pete. hopefully, that’ll be our last guest for the night.” he kisses both your cheeks with a grin. “where were we, mio amore?”

“ooh, i love it when you speak italian,” you giggle, peter cupping your face in his hands.“grazie, bellissima.” he winks and earns a puzzled face from you. “bellissima?” “that means beautiful.” instead of responding with words, you use your mouth to move on his. peter happily kisses back and lets your tongues intertwine. things quickly heat up, peter slipping your shorts down your legs and you lifting his pajama shirt.

you’re both only half undressed and running off broken up kisses, but so desperate. you part your legs for peter, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your panties. “think you can keep your oath of silence?” he teases and nips at your covered collarbone. “the real question is, can you?” you challenge. peter doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door suddenly flies open.

there stands ned, his mouth agape at the sight of a shirtless peter undressing you. you’re the first to notice. you see over peter’s shoulder and gasp. concern covers his features. “what is it, baby? do you want-“ “ned!” you whisper yell. his concern becomes shock. “you want ned?” “no, peter! he’s right there!” teeth sinking into your lip, you point behind him. peter looks and surely enough, there’s his best friend rendered speechless in the doorway.

“dude, what the hell are you doing here?” peter squeaks, you grabbing your shorts from next to you. he turns around to shield you while you put them back on. “aren’t you supposed to be with betty?” “we, um, finished,” ned gulps in response. “finished what- oh.” peter scratches the back of his neck as it hits him. “yuck, ned. a gentleman never tells.” “says you! this is my room too, you know,” he defends himself, you moving out from behind peter.

“and betty’s room is also mine. consider us even,” you hand peter his t-shirt with a satisfied smirk. he murmurs a thank you and throws it back on. ned uncomfortably shifts from foot to foot in the doorway. “that’s fair… are you leaving now?” “i should before mr. harrington makes his rounds,” you reluctantly decide. “i liked it better when people actually knocked,” peter says under his breath, standing to give you a goodnight hug.

“it’s not even this bad at home. i’ll take my dad and friday spying on us over a walk of shame any day,” you exhale as peter pulls you into his chest. hugging back by his torso, you give him an innocent kiss on the cheek. his lips brush your forehead. “maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow. should we try again, same time?” a familiar and irritated voice yells through the wall. mj.

“please god, no!”

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #marvel

[ateezmakemeweep]

playing with fire (part 1)

word count: 23k

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

(series masterlist)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but it never seemed to get to your friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re sick.”

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

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

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

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

but your parents were the opposite.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

because it’s not like it would go anywhere.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“her bedroom’s down that hall?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and apparently, so will you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“how was your semester?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“are you okay with the-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

not someone who gets your heart and body pounding.

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

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

he hope for his sake, she doesn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

never looking so... teasing and playful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but you didn’t have to know that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sweet dreams, y/n!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he doesn’t know when this happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“am i? or are you girls just early?”

“i’m not a girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

even if, sometimes, you wanted to kill her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“but dad, she totally-”

“maybe you should’ve taught your daughter-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(he did).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but she could’t know that.

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

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

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

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

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

“do you still wanna come with me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m sorry about my wife last night.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“eunbi...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“do you miss seeing them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what? she beeped at me.”

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

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

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

“where to first, mr. park?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“is this what you wanted?”

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

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

“w-what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

two can play at this game mr. park.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“true. it’s really good.”

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

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

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

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

“hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

unless the pull was so desperate.

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

strike one:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

strike two:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n...”

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

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

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

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

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

“no. no, no, no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

that, and because you’re both really hot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but maybe danny as a distraction will be good.

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

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

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

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

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

“oh, a small one, okay. great.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

something in you tells you it’s him again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i wanted to say sorry about before.”

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

“what do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"sweet dreams, y/n.”

strike 3:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“goodnight, mr. park.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

get all of his stress out in the form of-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“ow, y/n! what the he-”

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

“oh shit...”

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

“what do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

especially when it hurts students like you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“have you told your parents about tuition?”

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

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

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

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

“they wouldn’t help me anyway.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“can’t do what you love quite yet, i guess,” seonghwa says, his eyes roaming your face so slowly and carefully, it makes you a tad bit nervous.

you hadn’t realized how natural and easy this conversation was between you two, like you were talking to someone you’d known your whole life opposed to someone you’ve barely known for four years.

his hand itches to reach up and touch your hair, tuck the soft, silky looking strand behind your ear and watch your cheeks heat up when your skin touches; but instead, he smiles down at you, inching closer until he’s just looming over you and staring down at you with a soft, undetectable look in his eye.

“but it’ll be worth it in the end, i think. it’s just gonna... take some time.”

you lick over our lips, throat and mouth suddenly so incredibly dry, as you nod your head.

“yeah, i think so, too,” you say, your lips smushing together nervously before you open your mouth to speak again - this could be one of the last times you’re alone with him.

“thank you for letting me stay with you guys, mr. park. it’s been... really nice spending time with people for the holidays.”

he feels his heart twinge in his chest again, his eyes falling down to your lips and swearing he’s never wanted to kiss someone so bad in his life.  

“of course, y/n, it’s been a pleasure,” he says, a smile quirking at his lips with a hint of something you just can’t quite make out. “maybe we’ll see each other again soon.”

it was five days before classes started that you got the confirmation e-mail - a message confirming your tuition for the spring semester was paid in full and your current balance was $0.

you had to look over the message for three whole hours making sure you had read the e-mail correctly, even going as far to call the bursar office to make sure they had the correct address.

but they had confirmed with surety that your balance was paid off, urging you to quickly sign up for the classes you need before the day was over.

“okay, you will never believe what interview i was able to score for you,” eunbi says the moment she walks in the apartment, shopping bags up her arm and gucci sunglasses perched atop her head.

“i’ll admit, the vibe was a little off with the coworkers but i think it’d be a great opportunity to-” her eyes catch your laptop screen on the school website, a list of classes and times on your screen that causes her eyes to widen.

“oh?” she squeals, running over and throwing herself down on the couch beside you. “what the heck are you doing? are you... did you...?”

the lie came way too quick and easy to you, excitedly blabbering out that there was a change in the system and your scholarship was approved - “i think they felt bad that i was a graduating senior,” you said, eunbi’s face pulled into the happiest smile you’ve ever seen.

she clapped and danced and bounced around in excitement, proclaiming you guys just had to go out and get drinks to celebrate the fact that your surprise party was back on.

but you could only sit there with your thoughts and suspicions and this overwhelming feeling deep within your stomach that, while eunbi definitely doesn’t know, her father might’ve just paid your college tuition in full.

(part 2)

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @baekhvuns @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo @nlost21 @hyunjeansuniverse @cherryeonii @songsoomin @reeateez @biaswreckingfics @yunhoiseyecandy @sophrosyneeeee @uglychildd @happycandynoelle @seolarjk @liqhtiny @maedesculpaeusoubi @revehosh @svt-mangos @hcwurld @ateezappreciation @sanisms​ @khjssss​ @yixing-jaehyun​ @yeosangs-left-ass-cheek​

couldn’t tag: @ateez-after-dark @arkive78 

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

[emwritesstuff]

housesitting | bucky barnes x reader

summary: Housesitting for Steve Rogers has many perks. The man has the comfiest bed you’ve ever slept in; his coffee machine is top tier; and he also pays for every single streaming service you could think of, because he doesn’t wanna miss anything.

You can hardly see how Bucky Barnes stumbling into his apartment at 3 am with multiple wounds is one of them. But I guess it might be?

notes: this is my attempt at a more ~comedy centered one-shot, with some making out in the middle because uh, who doesn’t like that? In other news, reader is Chaotic. Canon mcu (Infinity War/Endgame) is non-existent in this.  (word count: 3K)

warnings: language, mentions of blood, gunshot wounds, general patching up shenanigans, some making out/grinding but not quite third base

[PART 2: breaking and entering]

Housesitting for Steve Rogers has many perks. The man has the comfiest bed you’ve ever slept in; his coffee machine is top tier; and he also pays for every single streaming service you could think of, because he doesn’t wanna miss anything. An old popsicle thing, you assume.

It’s peaceful, too. The neighborhood is nice and quiet, the other tenants are either extremely polite or too scared of Captain America to make much noise. You’ve had very nice stay-cations at his place, where you were free to choose to binge The Office while eating an entire pizza in the spam of 2 episodes or taking advantage of the quiet to write your grad-school thesis.

So when a loud BANG almost makes you drop your coffee mug on the floor, your spidey senses are immediately on alert. You don’t care how many times Peter insisted that it wasn’t a thing, your arm hairs stood up and your heart started hammering on your chest all the same.

You contemplate squeezing under the bed, turning off the show that was long abandoned and hiding until whatever it is goes away, but before you can do any of that, a string of sharp cursing and soft thumps and thuds snaps you out of your fear.

Maybe it’s a burglar. You could take a clumsy burglar, easy.

Now feeling like Tony had just welcomed you into the Avengers, you hop off Steve’s bed and let your baby Yoda socked feet carry you stealthily into the living room, holding a table lamp as if it was a baseball bat.

Everything is quiet, with no signs of forced entry at the door (you remember someone on Law and Order using those words), and in the dark you don’t notice the bloody trail coming from the kitchen.

You’re imagining things, then. When was the last time you slept? You don’t even feel tired, but you know sleep deprivation always gets you all kinds of crazy.

It happens the second your arm falls to your side and your posture shows the slight of relaxation. A strong arm around your neck and a hand against your mouth to muffle the screaming.

In the quiet of Steve’s apartment building, there is only you shrieking and howling and thrashing against the hold of a stranger.

“Don’t fuckin’ move.” You still.

And then you bite into the hand that is muting you, immediately regretting it when your teeth sink into something hard. Metal? Concrete? Ouch. You resume your resistance, determined, and is shoved away.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you.” His voice is gruff and dulled over the mask he is wearing, and as you’re taking this giant of a man in, you notice it.

The metal arm. The strapped leather jacket. The tortured blue eyes.

Winter Soldier.

The intruder is James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve’s best friend. That’s who the fuck it is.

“I’m Steve’s house sitter! I even have a key.” You say, with arms in front of you to signal no harm but inching closer to the table lamp with every step.

“House…sitter? Where’s Steve?”

“Who knows. Maybe a mission. He texts me, I come over.” You shrug, and put a chair back to where it was before it got knocked over.

“I don’t believe you. Where is Steve?”

“Listen, I don’t know, okay? I guess he’s just out for a few days. I don’t ask. He just lets me stay in here so I can water the plants and feed the Avengers.”

“The– the what?”

“The Avengers! The fish, see.” You point to the aquarium, where a handful of colorful fish swam peacefully in.

Peace. So much for your peace, because now what you have is a surly super soldier eyeing the fish tank like it was the most loathsome thing in the entire universe, except maybe for you.

“I hate this thing. Naming them makes it even worse.” He trudges back to the kitchen, stomping on the floor like he was on a parade.

So much for the other people’s peace, too.

“Hey! Sir. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s 3 in the fucking morning?” You sass, putting your hands on your hips when he retorts that yeah, he does know. “What are you even doing here?”

“Back from a mission.” He grumbles without looking at you, as if you’re the one who stumbled into his place in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t your place, but still.

“Don’t you have a house?” There’s a part of you that knows pushing the Winter Soldier’s buttons is asking for trouble, but your tired and confused brain decides to ignore it.

“You interrogating me? I need a motherfucking– ” He wheezes and nearly doubles over, holding on the door frame between the living room and the kitchen. You finally spot the blood, both on the tiles and seeping out of the Soldier’s jacket and pants.

He’s hurt. Shit.

“– first aid kit.”

“You need a motherfucking hospital!” You shrill, panic chilling your bones. You don’t do blood. Or any kind of wound, for that matter.

The man ignores you, opening up cabinets hastily. You huff, and walk past him to get to the actual home of the first aid kit. Steve’s oldest, closest friend and can’t even find a box with pharmaceutical supplies in his kitchen. You slam it on the counter next to him.

“You’re welcome.”

“Zip it.”

Just a look from him is enough to render you speechless, and not in the good, butterflies-in-your-stomach kind of way. You’re positive that one swat of that metal arm and you’ll be flying out of the window.

He begins by removing his mask, revealing a handsome face underneath, and you try your best to focus on how dark and menacing it looked while locked in that scowl of his. Then, he unbuckles his jacket and discards it on the floor, it coming to a stop next to your feet.

Oh man, he’s naked. Well, not really, just the incredibly toned, strong and muscular top half of him, but you stare wide-eyed as if he was.

“See somethin’ you like, doll?” He quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and you turn your back to him, mostly to hide your own embarrassment.

“No.” You cross your arms resolutely, because you definitely don’t think he’s attractive. He is a rude, grumpy, private-property-invader-bastard. Doll. Yuck.

You hear a rumble come out of his chest. Is he laughing? Shithead. Other noises follow, wheezes, small grunts and the tinkle of metal on the marble counter.

A particular pained grunt makes you turn, and you see Barnes with his body twisted, trying to reach a bloody hole on his back. It would be funny if he wasn’t trying to poke a gunshot.

“Do you need… help?” You ask, against your own will, only to be met with his icy gaze.

“No.”

“Come on, you can’t even reach that.”

Another glare is shot your way, and you quirk your brow up. He did need the help, you think, because aside from the muscles and the sweat making him glisten like a delicious – wait what – glazed donut, the man looked like hell.

“…fine.” He slides a pair of surgical prongs, something you identify in your head as oversized tweezers, and you instantly regret your offer. Pressing an iodine-soaked cotton ball to a wound, sure. But not this.

He turns his back to you without a word, supporting himself on the marble. You think that he’s about to make a dent on the goddamn stone if he keeps holding onto it that hard.

“Ah, fuck. Shit. Fuck. Ugh, it’s so gross. Fuck.”

It’s the most horrifying thing you’ve ever done, but you try your best to get to the bullet quickly, so very thankful that Barnes holds himself perfectly still for you. “Got it!”

He lets out a long breath when you toss the prongs and the bullet on the counter with the rest and resumes his cleanup. So, he’s not even going to say thanks. Great.

You try not to think about how you still want to make conversation while you hurriedly scrub the blood from your hands, because aside from the hostility and him jumping on you as a meet-cute, the guy peeks your interest.

Steve has said Barnes is nice, too, and you believed Steve, because he’s basically incapable of lying. Or maybe because he’s pretty. Both, for sure.

With your hands now clean, you turn to him, mouth open with some kind of conversation starter that is immediately forgotten.

Oh man, he’s naked. For real this time.

Bucky Barnes has stepped out of his pants while you were overthinking by the sink, now standing in only a pair of black boxers. It’s like he feels you staring at his butt, because he turns to you with raised eyebrows.

“Last one’s on my thigh. I got it.” He’s holding the prongs this time, and you’re glad you don’t have to do anything, because your face next to that groin might make you go into spontaneous combustion.

“Yeah.”

He hums. You hope all of this is a fever dream.

“Isn’t there a med bay at–”

“Don’t like people prodding and pokin’ at me.” His comment makes you grimace. He’s the Winter Soldier, damn it. You know the stories, everyone does. Of course he doesn’t like being prodded.

He looks at you funny, probably because you went dead quiet. You don’t want him to think you feel pity, because you don’t, but god don’t you feel bad for poking him now, even if verbally.

“I’m gonna – grab one of Steve’s – uh. Dude you need to put some clothes on. Jesus.”

He laughs at you again, which you’re thankful for because anything is better than the awkwardness of the other subject. You pick up a black pair of sweatpants that was so deep in one of Steve’s drawers that you know he’d have to have bought it and never had the guts to put it on. This one would do just fine.

If there is one thing Steve Rogers isn’t, is a black sweats guy.

“Here.” You deposit the sweats and a white tee on the counter, one of the millions that you found inside the closet. Barnes was patching himself up now, bandages wrapped everywhere on his body.

Got his ass kicked good. You shudder when you imagine the state of the other guy.

He eyes the clothes, and saying nothing, returns to his task. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t ask you to help me.”

“Yeah, but I did anyways! ‘Cause I’m stupid, I guess.” You almost hurl a dirty plate at him when he scoffs, muttering a yeah, guess you are. “God, why are you so grumpy?”

“Well you try being shot 5 times and see how cheerful you are after.”

“You got shot 5 times?!”

Looking at you from between his brows, the Soldier nods to the five mangled bullets sitting on the counter. You think about how you’ve made yourself a sandwich just hours earlier on the exact same spot. You want to puke.

Taking time to look around yourself, you can finally grasp the state of Steve’s ever-so-pristine kitchen, now a mess of dirty clothes, blood and your own few dishes from the night before. You don’t even think about what you’re doing as you move, gathering every single cleaning supply you can find, and start working on the cleanup.

You’re struggling, because obviously you’ve never done this before. Anyone can tell, from your soft abdomen and your severe lack of muscle, that you’re not an Avenger. Sure, you work with them, but you’re usually neck deep into advanced tech, not in the gym by any means. Also, you don’t do blood.

That means you have to think about something else, anything else, while you’re manically cleaning the floor. One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, the Winter Soldier’s tight ass, four sheep, get it together goddamnit –

“Leave it. I’ll clean.”

You huff, he huffs back, and you look up at him.

“You got shot five times. Go sit down or something before you blow your back too, grandpa.” You call him that to assure yourself that he is old, like actually super old, and thirsting over him is weird. Even weirder when he’s all bandaged and bleeding. And still shirtless. Shit.

He mumbles something that you ignore, and stomps off. You think you actually did a pretty decent job with the cleaning, considering.

You need coffee. Definitely an entire bottle of vodka too, but there was no alcohol in this god’s good home, so you settle for the brew that you made earlier. You pour a mug for Barnes too, because you’re nice like that, and amble into the living room to find him slumped on a chair.

“Coffee?” You start, settling his mug on the table next to him.

“It’s almost 5 a.m.”

“Guess I’m up early for once. Maybe I should go for a run.”

He snorts, and opens one eye to inspect you from where he is. He reaches out for the coffee, using his metal hand, and you consider the two ways this could go.

He’d shatter the mug right then and there. Or, he’d throw it at you. Your jaw goes slack at what he actually does, sirens blaring loudly in your head. Truly astonishing, the most bewildering turn of events.

He drinks from it.

“Thanks. Quit staring at me.”

“Wow, Mr. Winter knows the magic words. Mr. Barnes. Sergeant?” You’re thinking aloud, abandoning any trace of sanity you’ve been holding. You even sit on the couch next to his armchair.

“It’s Bucky,”

Again, absolutely bewildering. You must be going insane.

“– and you talk too much.” He finishes, with an end-of-story tone, and returns to his rest. At least that felt like normality.

“Bucky. Bucky.” You roll the name on your tongue, feeling a weird buzz start to take over you. It grows stronger when you notice he’s looking at you, one brow quirked as if you lost your marbles. “You know, Bucky, this is definitely not how I saw my night going. Home invasion, playing surgeon – not my usual kind of fun.”

You get up, maybe because you decide that you – and Bucky – need a blanket, or maybe because you need a distraction from his chest going up and down like it’s got a business with making you want to touch it.

You’re not a slut, but who knows? Jim Halper would get it.

“You’re that kid, aren’t you? Stark’s assistant.” Bucky’s voice, low and husky, makes you jump. You look at him, your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

It’s surprising that he knows you, considering. He’s – well, he’s basically a celebrity, if ex-assassins could be considered that. You’re only Tony’s techie, and you and Bucky have never actually met, not even in the few parties you had attended to stop your boss from nagging you that you had to actually go out and have some fun sometimes, because you’re still young and cute and you need to enjoy yourself before you get saggy and bitter.

Jokes on him, you were born bitter.

“I’m no kid.”

“Nice socks.”

You wiggle your toes and it makes the ears of one of the baby Yodas move.

“Still not a kid! If you wanna be sad and wear your sad, plain socks, Bucky, that’s entirely your choice.” You said, pointing your index at him, making circles in the air with it to really get your point across.

Bucky smirks, and you go up to him with the two blankets on your arms. He’s blocking the door with that bulky body of his, and you raise your eyebrows quizzically.

“I’ll have you know – meeting Steve’s annoying, mouthy, pretty house sitter is not how I saw my night going either.” Bucky puts a doubtful tone on house sitter, as if he still doesn’t get exactly what it means.

You blink. You’re positive you heard it wrong. Is he… is this flirting?

“You think I’m pretty?”

“I called you annoying and mouthy too.”

“Yeah, I mean I know that much about me.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “The pretty part is new though.”

Bucky still hasn’t moved from the doorframe, and you find yourself staring up at him. He is inches away now, pupils blown wide in the darkness, and you can see a ring of steely blue around them. He licks his lips, and you’re drawn in.

The maelstrom in his eyes sends you spinning.

“I think someone should say you’re not see through, much less–”

Bucky shuts you up by pressing his lips onto yours, a slow, exploratory kiss, the tenderest he’s been all night. His metal hand rests on your lower back, making you shiver at the cool touch.

You’re all panting and eagerness when you cup his face with both hands and press your body against his. You need to deepen this kiss. You haven’t drooled over Bucky Barnes all night to keep things lovey-dovey.

He responds in earnest, pulling you closer. The flesh hand on the back of your neck is a stark contrast against the chill of the other. You and Bucky stumble from the corridor and back to the living room, knocking over a few of Steve’s decorations in the process.

“I don’t feel as bad for this one.” You mumble against his lips, stopping to look at a particular framed picture of Captain America in uniform, surrounded by every single counterfeit Cap in Times Square.

“S’ one of his favorites.”

You nod, you’re aware. Steve thinks it’s the most hilarious thing ever.

Bucky’s breath tickles the hairs on your neck when he continues.

“I hate it.”

“Yeah.”

You capture his lips again, and you two resume your chaotic redecorating. You’re thankful for Bucky’s strong arms keeping you from falling over, because at this point you’re not sure if your legs work anymore.

He takes you with him when he drops down on the same armchair from earlier, and the dizzy spell you find yourself in is broken when you hear him groan.

Right. He’s battered up and stuff.

“Shit, Bucky, I’m sorry–”

“No.” He pulls you close again, and guides your body to straddle one of his thighs. “Stay right here, doll.”

Doll. God-fucking-damnit.

His hand moves under the elastic band of your pants, oh my god you’re making out with Bucky-Hot-Piece-Of-Ass-Barnes in your wiener dog pajama bottoms, and finds the hem of your underwear. He pulls on it, and you yelp when he lets it snap against your side.

He laughs, and you vibrate along with his chest.

You find yourself grinding on his leg, sucking on his bottom lip, raking your nails along his shoulders, doing anything, everything for more, trying to burn the taste and the feel of him on your memory. He moves on to kiss your neck and you sigh, tugging on his hair and making sure you’re holding on for dear life.

Your eyes flutter open, enough to see the fish Avengers in their tank.

The Avengers.

Steve Rogers is an Avenger. So is Bucky, technically.

You’re making out with Bucky. One of his hands is on your boob.

This is Steve’s apartment.

You manage to sober you up enough, despite Bucky’s constant attacks of open mouth kisses and bites on your neck.

“I don’t think Steve would – if we–” You lift your head begrudgingly to look at him. “You know, on his armchair.”

“Right.” He didn’t seem convinced, but his hand moved up from your butt to your waist again.

Steve Rogers was probably miles away right now and still cockblocking you.

Even worse, his furniture was cockblocking you.

Stupid star-spangled IKEA shopper.

And his hot best friend. Who’s currently smiling at you in a such a way that makes you almost abandon all comradery towards Rogers and the sanctity of his place.

You debate getting up, but resign yourself to burying your nose in the crook of Bucky’s neck and just staying there, because honestly, when are you going to have the chance to do this again. Never, that’s when.

Also, he’s surprisingly comfortable for someone with a metal arm and such a jacked-up body.

“You’re sleepy.”

“No, I’m like, super awake.”

It’s a lie, because now that the sparks have flown and the rush of blood in your ears gave way to the quietness of the early morning, you feel yourself drifting, on and off, surprising yourself when you come to once and find that Bucky is still there, warm under you.

“Sleep, doll. I need it too.”

You shift, ready to let his rhythmic breathing lull you to sleep. The last 75 sleepless hours catch up with you.

“Bucky? If you want to break into someone’s house again sometime – I have a first aid kit too. Just sayin’.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #avengers x reader #emwrites

[kiyosamu]

back up.

---♡---

pairing: rintaro suna x female reader

genre: dark, angst, (slight) enemies to comfort, some comedy in the beginning. // one shot, 3.9k words

synopsis: being the younger sister of the miya twins definitely has its advantages and its... disadvantages. sure, it comes with all of the teasing from both them and their friends, but it gets more serious when people hold grudges on them and try to take out their anger on you.

content warnings: descriptions of assault, threats, sexual assault (no penetration), violence, injuries

---♡---

“Osamu!” You screeched, attempting to push your older brother off of you. “Get him off!”

Atsumu had tackled you to the ground and was sitting on your back, cackling with satisfaction as he pinned you down.

“I can’t help ya.” Osamu smirked as he walked by. He sat on the couch adjacent to you and Atsumu with an amused glimmer in his eyes. “Shouldn’t have eaten his pudding.”

“Why do you care if I eat his pudding?!” You growled, thrashing around under Atsumu to get some kind of leverage while he sat on you with all of his weight, rendering your limbs useless.

“If you eat his pudding, then he eats mine.” Osamu shrugged, “And I hate it when he does that.”

“Take it up with him! I just grabbed whatever was closest. You guys are so weird with your labeled food!” You tried to throw a punch at Atsumu and he caught your fist easily, snickering when you let out a loud whine. “Atsumu, get OFF!”

“No can do, kiddo.” He grinned, “Ya know what happens when you eat our food.”

“I’m gonna tell mom.” You mumbled.

“That’s dirty. Don’t bring mom into this.” Osamu interrupted and you shot a death glare at him.

“Stop involving yourself! I don’t need your commentary.”

“Don’t be such a tattle tale.” Atsumu teased, finally easing up on you and taking a bit of the weight off of your back. You gasped dramatically as you could finally take a full, deep breath.

“Thank you, god. You’re heavy.” You said quietly, deciding to fully submit and just lay down on the living room floor.

“Did you just call me fat?!” Atsumu gasped, crawling over to your face to look you in the eyes.

“Yes.” You nodded. Atsumu immediately turned to Osamu, who burst out laughing at his offended expression.

“Laugh it up, ‘Samu. If I’m fat then so are you.” Atsumu muttered as he finally stood up to take a seat next to Osamu on the couch.

“I can’t stand either of you.” You mumbled, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at them.

“Why’s baby Miya throwing a temper tantrum?” A familiar, monotone voice was coming from the entry way. You hadn’t even heard him come in.

“None of your business, Suna.” You glared at the tall boy. He responded with a crooked smirk while he walked in with his hands plunged deep in his pockets.

Suna was over at your house almost every day. He also teased you as much as your brothers did, if not more.

“Jeez, what’s with the attitude?” He snorted, “You sound like Atsumu. I swear you’re triplets.”

Suna jumped over the back of the couch and plopped down between the twins. You sat up, looking at the three of them for a second before getting up and retreating to your room.

“Aw, come on baby Miya. Where are you going?” Suna called after you while you walked down the hallway.

“I need to get ready. I’m going out tonight.”

You retreated to your bedroom and sat down at your vanity. Before you could even pull out a hair brush, Osamu had burst into your bedroom.

“Where ya going?” He asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Out?” You replied, getting up to sift through your closet for something to wear.

Your friend had set you up on a blind date tonight. Your mom had held your brothers back a year and since you were only 10 months apart, you were all in the same year. This meant you all had the same classmates, knew all of the same people, and they were constantly in your business.

When your friend had told you about this guy, he sounded too good to be true. He had gone to another school that was a bit further away, but since you had all graduated a few months prior you figured a bit of distance wasn’t that big of a deal. After all, you were all adults now.

“Out where?” Atsumu asked, pushing the door open all the way and standing against the other side of the frame.

“On a date…” you muttered. The moment you said that, your brothers came in and promptly sat on your bed.

“Where are you going?”

“With who?”

“Where did you meet him?”

“How old is he?”

“Is he picking you up?”

“How long have you known him for?”

“Oh my god.” You groaned, pointing at your door. “Can you guys get out? I need to get ready. Why are you asking so many questions?”

“Believe it or not, kiddo, we just want to make sure you’re safe.” Osamu said, standing up and walking over to pat you on your head.

“Ugh, ‘Samu, you guys don’t have to treat me like a kid still. I’m an adult now, you know.” You said, crossing your arms.

“But you’ll always be our little sister.” Atsumu smiled. “Mom can’t keep track of all of us all the time. So we need to do it for her.” His words were genuine. Even though the three of you bickered and teased each other, you were protective of each other. You knew your brothers would do anything for you.

You’d never tell them, but you’d do anything for them, too.

“If anyone needs keeping track of, it’s you two.” You smirked. Atsumu rolled his eyes and Osamu shrugged you off.

Your brothers tried to pry more information out of you, but you only told them the bare minimum. After all, you barely even knew anything. You didn’t even know his name.

“So? Where’s she going?” Suna asked as the twins came back into the living room. He was sprawled out on the couch and flicking through the tv channels.

“That restaurant downtown. The one a few bus stops before your house.” Atsumu said with crossed arms. “She won’t let us drive her.”

“I’ll take the bus with her.” Suna shrugged, “It’s on the way, so I’ll make sure she gets there safely.”

“Good. Then you can tell us who she’s meetin’ there.” Osamu smirked.

Whether or not Osamu had asked, Suna was planning on finding that out regardless.

“Call is if you need anythin’!” Atsumu called to you as you walked to the door.

“We’ll come! Just call us, okay?” Osamu added.

“I’ll be fine, but thanks. I’ll text you when I’m on my way home.” You said loud enough for them to hear you in the other room. “Love you.”

“Love ya!” They replied in unison.

—

“Are you sure you’re not just spying on me?” You mumbled just loud enough for Suna to hear you from the seat behind you.

“Just decided to go home, baby Miya.” He replied, leaning forward. “Why? Do you want me to spy on you?”

“No!” You turned around and squinted your eyes at him. He looked back at you with a playful smirk and then went back to paying attention to his phone.

You got off the bus and hesitated for a moment, half expecting Suna to get off after you.

Except he didn’t.

You sighed, feeling the nerves creeping up and realizing you really were all alone now. Meeting a man you didn’t know, and unsure of what to expect.

You looked around and pulled out your phone to check the message from your friend again to refresh yourself on the characteristics of your blind date.

Dark hair, about 5’10, dark green eyes, ah-

“Miya, is it?” A man fitting the exact description was standing in front of you, a rose in hand and suspicious smirk across his lips.

“Yes, sorry, what’s your name?” Your voice was trembling and you had no idea why. You chalked it up to nerves, but it might’ve been the uneasiness you’d felt when you made eye contact with him.

“Daishou Suguru.” He said melodically. He handed you the rose and lightly pressed his hand to your lower back. “Shall we go inside? I have a table for us.”

You nodded, walking inside with him.

——

“So, Miya, any relation to those twins?” He asked, leaning in with his chin on his palm. He stared at you intently as if he wanted to soak in every word you were about to say.

“Oh, yeah. They’re my brothers.” You smiled. Even though they irritated you, you always liked to talk about them. You were proud of your brothers and all of their accomplishments, and talking about them was easier than having to come up with things to say about yourself.

“Ah,” Daishou nodded, thanking the server as she passed your dishes to the two of you. “Those two are real shit talkers, huh?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, a bit too casually for the occasion and realized you’d never even heard this guy’s name prior to tonight. “Wait, why do you say that?”

You were familiar with pretty much all of the volleyball players that your brothers had faced off against. Inarizaki’s own team were like family, but the other teams were around so often you’d gotten to know quite a few of the players from other schools just by going to the games and tournaments.

“Played against them once.” Daishou mumbled, the previously warm expression in his eyes was gone. “I don’t know which one I hate more. The mouthy setter or the spiker with the ego.”

You got goosebumps when he spoke these words. These weren’t normal rivalry grudges. This sounded like pure, unprecedented hatred.

You started to feel uncomfortable.

You hummed in acknowledgement. You weren’t sure how to reply, but you wanted him to know you’d heard him and were listening.

“So, how are you going to make it up to me?” Daishou asked. You froze, looking up at him.

His previously cold expression was warm again, cheeks round with a big smile. “I’m kidding.”

“Oh,” you giggled nervously and decided to focus on eating your dinner.

The rest of the evening went by okay. Little comments like that would have you unsure if there were ulterior motives, but when you’d try to look into it you’d see a happy smile from your date. Maybe he really was just joking, and was nervously trying to make you laugh.

When it was time to go, Daishou paid for the both of you and you left the restaurant together.

It was dark outside and pouring rain. You sighed, looking down the street at the empty bus stop. The bus wouldn’t be coming for another 20 minutes.

“Let me wait with you for the bus.” He smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist again. “I wouldn’t want you out here all alone.”

You reluctantly accepted but tried to keep your distance. While his arm was around you, your arms were crossed and you were trying to stay as far from him as possible. Something was off, and you wanted to get as far away from him as quickly as possible.

You sent your brothers a quick text to let them know which bus you’d be on.

“Let’s wait over here. Out of the rain.”

Before you could reply, he grabbed your hand and yanked you down a small alley. It was covered by the overhead of the buildings roof, but was pitch black.

“I had a nice time tonight.” Daishou purred, pressing his body against you and trapping you against the cold brick wall.

“Yeah, me too…” You said quietly.

Only a few more minutes.

Daishou leaned down, trailing his hand up your chest and wrapping his long fingers around your throat. Your breath hitched and you felt tears well up in your eyes. You knew something was wrong. You knew something was going to happen. Your gut feeling was never wrong.

You tensed up, preparing to punch him the moment you felt pressure from his fingers. Instead of choking you, however, his hand rested gingerly on your skin and he leaned down to kiss you.

You kissed back, completely uninterested but not wanting him to know that.

“So, you are easy.” He smirked against your lips. He grabbed your hands and held them against the wall. His tongue started to force its way into your mouth and as you tried to break away, his body pressed into you harder, making you unable to move.

“Please stop,” you whimpered, “I don’t- I don’t want this.”

“Just relax.” He dug his fingers into your wrist, holding both of your hands together with just one of his, and using his free hand to move down your body and fondle your chest.

“Daishou- I-“ you gasped when he bit down on your neck. It didn’t feel good at all, and was just a swearing pain.

“You know, it really is a shame that you’re related to those two.” He muttered against your skin. “You’re a pretty girl. Probably would’ve liked you had your shitty brothers not have been such dicks.”

“Please, please just get off-“ You sniffled. You fought your brothers all the time, so why couldn’t you get him off? Why were you tensing up? Why were you crying? Just push him off, just push and run.

“Shut up.” He muttered. He slipped his hand into your pants and you let out a sob.

“No, no! Get off of me! Stop!” You were crying now, your voice getting louder as you attempted to break from his hold.

Unfortunately, he was just too strong for you. He smacked you across the face and pressed his palm to your mouth.

“I told you to shut up.” He growled. “Blame the twins for this.”

You were sobbing now. Completely terrified as this man assaulted your body in this dark alley and all you could think about was how badly you wanted to get out of there. How badly you wished your brothers had spied on you, how much you wanted them to protect you in that moment.

Daishou glared at you as your wails got louder, pulling back and slapping you across the face so hard you thought you were seeing stars.

“That’s what happens when stupid girls like you don’t listen. Now be quiet!”

Your vision was blurred and dark and you thought you were about to pass out when you felt the weight of his body completely lifted off of you.

You immediately felt relief, not in the form of safety by any means but you felt like you could somewhat breathe again. The blow he’d given you to the head had you feeling dizzy and you sunk to the ground against the wall.

“You fucking-“ *whack*

“piece-“ *whack*

“of shit!” *whack*

You squinted your eyes open at the familiar voice. The same voice that had annoyed you earlier that afternoon. The voice that immediately gave you a sense of safety in that dark alley.

“Suna..?” You barely managed to squeak out. You were sure he didn’t hear you considering you could barely hear your own voice.

“You’re going to regret this for the rest of your life.” Suna spat, landing another punch directly to his face. “If you have issues with someone, take it up with them like a fucking man.” He growled. “Instead of preying on their little sister. You’re pathetic.”

Suna stood up off the ground and all you could do was watch through squinted eyes and your knees pulled to your chest.

He pulled something out of his pocket, it shined under the street lamps and you weren’t sure what it was. He grabbed Daishou by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to stand up before pressing the object against his throat.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t just kill you right here.”

You closed your eyes, covering your face in your arms when you heard Daishou start to sob. He sounded like you did a few minutes ago.

“I’d go to jail for her, no questions asked. Trust me when I tell you that I won’t hesitate.”

Suna was much bigger than him. Stronger. Taller.

“Hey,” Suna growled, pushing him against the brick wall. Daishou looked as light as a rag doll when Suna was throwing him around. “Answer me when I’m talking to you.”

“Please- I don’t- I’m sorry-“ Daishou choked out.

Suna laughed. A completely genuine laugh that made your skin crawl.

“Are you? Are you sorry?”

You looked back up at the two men, closer to you now and you could see that the object Suna had against his throat was a knife.

“Suna, wait-“ You tried to say to him, but your voice was still shaky and quiet.

Daishou was sobbing now, tears flowing from his eyes and wails ripping from his throat.

“Not so tough when you’re the one on the receiving end, huh?” Suna glared, putting his knife back in his pocket and throwing Daishou back onto the ground.

“Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind.” Suna said in a dark, low tone you hadn’t heard from him before. “And if you ever come near her again, I really will kill you.”

Daishou scrambled to his feet, holding his head and trying to stop the bleeding on his face that was surely from one of the rings Suna was wearing on his fingers.

You trembled against the wall, staring at Suna’s back as he watched Daishou leave. As soon as he was out of eyesight, he quickly turned to you and crouched down.

“Hey, it’s okay.” His voice softened, his gaze was kind and he hesitated before touching you. “Can I help you up? Can you stand?”

You nodded weakly and he crouched down, putting his arms under yours and standing you up. You could feel your legs wobbling and held onto his arm for support.

“Ugh,” He sighed, the pain in his voice coming through when he saw the true damage that’d been done to you. His hands carefully put you back together as best he could. He buttoned your shirt and pants back up, and shrugged off his jacket to put it on you instead.

You grabbed onto the sleeves and pulled them over your hands. It was even bigger than your brothers’ jackets, and you sunk into the soft material trying to grasp onto any little piece of comfort you could get.

Suna picked you up and held you against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he supported you from under your legs.

“How did you know where to find me?” You asked, your voice still quiet and strained.

“They told me what bus you were taking home so I came to make sure you got on okay. When it came and left without you I got worried and looked around, and then I heard you crying.” Suna let out a stressed out breath, “You know, I really would’ve done it.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” You said, closing your eyes. You couldn’t even process what had just happened and didn’t know what you would’ve done if Suna wasn’t with you right now.

——

Suna’s house was only down the road, and you agreed to go there and get cleaned up before heading back home.

“Here,” Suna handed you a pair of comfortable pants and a t-shirt. “They’ll be way too long on you, but it’s better than your soaking wet clothes you’re wearing now.”

“Thanks…” you accepted the offer, stepping into the bathroom to change.

When you came out, Suna had changed too, but his eyes widened with shock when he saw the extent of your injuries.

He swore under his breath and approached you. When he reached out and touched your neck, his cool hand soothed the sting of the deep bite Daishou had embedded in your neck.

“Can’t believe he fucking bit you.” Suna’s voice was so quiet he was practically whispering, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or just thinking out loud. He trailed his hand around your throat and pressed his fingers on the deep bruises forming from when you’d been choked.

“That helps,” you sighed, leaning into his touch. Suna pulled his hand back as if he wasn’t even aware he’d been touching you.

“What do you want to do now? Should we call Osamu and Atsumu? Want me to take you home?” He placed his hands on your shoulders and continued looking you over. Suna brushed your hair out of the way, inspecting your face closely and grunting when he looked straight on at the black eye starting to appear.

You winced when his thumb grazed over the side of your head and he immediately pulled back.

“You were hit really hard. You should go to the hospital.”

You shook your head. “I don’t… I don’t want to go anywhere. Not right now, anyway.” You stepped over to his bed, sitting on the edge. “Can I just lie down?”

Suna nodded and pulled the blankets open, gesturing for you to crawl into his bed. He pulled the blankets on top of you and patted your arm.

“I’m just going to go into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I’ll shut the light off so you can rest a bit.”

The moment you couldn’t feel his presence in the room anymore, your mind travelled back to where you were earlier that night. Being attacked in a dark alley and suddenly you were feeling suffocated.

You sat up, gasping for air and Suna ran in, turning the light on and sitting next to you.

“Its okay, it’s okay,” He murmured, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into him. He stroked your hair and let you cry out your fear as long as you needed to.

“I don’t…” You sniffled, “I don’t know what happened. When you left I just felt so scared all over again.”

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly, pressing his cheek against the top of your hair.

“Please don’t leave me alone.”

Suna nodded and stood up to go turn the light off again.

“Wait, where are you going?” You felt the panic start to take over again when the bed dipped down beside you.

“I’m right here.” His voice was kind. The Suna you’d known to always tease and annoy you had been replaced by something you could only describe as being your safety net.

Maybe this side of him was always here, and you just hadn’t ever noticed.

You laid back down beside him, moving close and nuzzling into his chest just like you had when he was carrying you. He wrapped his arms around you and softly trailed his hand up and down your back.

“I’ve got you, okay?” He whispered, “You’re safe with me. I promise. Just try and get some rest and we can worry about everything in the morning. You’ve been through enough tonight.”

You nodded and felt the relief wash over you. You knew you had a lot to deal with tomorrow, but having Suna by your side made it seem a little less scary.

Thinking back, he always was by your side. He would defend you when the twins would get too rough, and was definitely guilty of giving guys an intimidating glare when they’d try to hit on you.

You sighed, soaking in the feeling of his warmth.

You knew that from them on, you wanted nothing more than to be on his side.

And for him to stay on yours.

#rintaro suna angst #rintaro suna #rintaro suna x reader #suna x reader #suna angst #suna comfort #suna one shot #haikyuu angst #haikyuu comfort #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu drabble #suna drabble #miya twins #osamu miya #miya osamu #miya #osamu #atsumu #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #atsumu miya angst #atsumu angst #osamu miya angst #miya twins angst #suna fluff #haikyuu headcanon #daishou angst #haikyuu #haikyu angst #yandere haikyuu

[starshipsofstarlord]

Can you do one where the reader is Bonnie’s twin sister and is dating Stefan ?

Salvatore - Stefan Salvatore x Bennet!reader

Masterlist Link

Summary; based on the request

Warnings; making out, slight smut, fingering, swearing, threats, mentions of torture, Bonnie being an adorable protective sister, implied smut

“Shhh.” It surpassed your mouth as a rumble onto your lover’s lips, as yours stretched out into a hushed smile. He too showed an expression of happiness, as he pecked your lips, his hands sliding beneath the material of your top, soothing your back with his calloused and wise hands.

There was a problem rendering you with the necessity of being quiet, it would be a terrible travesty if anyone within the household were to hear you, giggling like a teenage girl (which you were), their Bennet curiosity swiping off their nose and leaping into action as they would surely, and most definitely, take aid to discover what it was that had you amused so.

Their opinion on the immortal men of time, that were transformed into a whole new species by one transfusion of exchanged blood, and a sentence of completed death, was not an optimal nor within preferred context. Vampires had taken so much from the Bennet witches throughout the years, that there was a stifling resentment wedged between the two.

You and Stefan were the exception, the two star crossed lovers entailed in a forbidden romance. He wasn't the enemy, but that did not mean that your sister Bonnie would be pleased with the current partner that you were adjoined by in your relationship. She'd watched Elena fawn over the green eyed charmer, it would be an utter nightmare for her to discover that you were now coiled beneath him on the rectangle of your bed, as he pressed tentative kisses along the length of your neck, smothering you with affection.

It was inevitable that your secret rendezvous would one day be revealed to all, including your sibling, however that wasn't something that you wanted to think about as Stefan's hand crept down, and over your skirt, sliding beneath the flowing material, and up the skin of your thigh. His action extracted a wisp of a gasp out from your mouth, as you pawed at his chest, distinctively staring through silence that you were keen in removing the shirt from his body.

The message was delivered as he reeled it up over his head, exposing his lean and fit body to your eyes. He continued to feather your skin with amorous touches, as he removed your panties by sliding them down your legs, shoving your skirt up so that your intimate skin was bare to his touch. “Stefan....” you whispered his name, as he slowly slid a finger into you. Your eyes fluttered peacefully shut, as his thumb coiled in a circle around your clit, for a moment it was silent, until the door opened.

“Stefan?!” Your sister repeated your words, making you instantly cover up your barren flesh, and your boyfriend to roll off you. There was digress in Bonnie’s eyes, she was severely judging you in your choice of partner, you were well aware of how her mind worked. Her arms became crossed as she rigidly shook her head, Stefan tossed his shirt back over his head, trying to make the predicament that little bit more bearable.

“Bonnie, I can explain...” it was rather obvious what was going on. An explanation wasn’t wanted nor was it needed, everything that was necessary to know was right before her face. The two of you had been caught in the midst prior to sex, which was as awkward as expected, however more so considering your sister remained glaring back and forth between you and the vampire.

“If you’re going to tell me that it’s not what it looks like, I’m calling bull on that.” She stated in an unimpressed manner. “This also means that you invited him in.” Her and Stefan didn’t hate each other, their kinds had simply been used as pawns against one another for far too long, and she hated to see you, her twin, in a cycle with a vampire, especially a Salvatore.

She had a feeling you were seeing someone, call it a fraternal thing. Though out of the entire town, it had to be one of those brothers, the brooding and dangerous siblings that survived by drinking blood and often compelled people close to them to admin their whims. “You have too much trust in people y/n.” She sighed, and she wasn’t entirely incorrect with all things considered.

“But he’s the right person to trust.” You tried to reason with her, but after all the pain that he had put the Bennet family through, it was difficult, and logically so, to believe your words. “Come on Bon.”

“No. I can hardly believe you, you went behind my back to see him, out of all people.” She spoke angrily, her tone wavering with hurt. Stefan took that as the moment that he was meant to intrude, he stood, walking towards your sister, a small and kind smile upon his face.

He appreciated her instinct to protect you, but you weren’t as naive as she thought you to be. It had taken him multiple accounts to even sway you into even agreeing going on a date with him, though he realised that all those rejections had been worth the price of pain, because he had grown significantly upon you.

“I love your sister.” The vampire informed the witch, glancing over at you with a newfound smile on his frozen in age face. Your eyes widened, the two of you had yet to exchange such words, though rather than interrupting by saying them back, you allowed him to continue speaking, despite Bonnie’s light scoff. “I know you don’t like it, but can’t you accept that she’s happy, don’t you want your sister to be happy? That’s why I’m fine my brother is with my ex, I care about his happiness above all.”

“I’m not giving you my blessing.” Her chest heaved at her statement, she was far too protective to give anyone the pass of go ahead at you. “If you hurt her, I will pierce a stake straight through your heart, though I’ll make sure you suffer first. This is not a forgiveness Stefan, as you said, every sibling wants theirs own to be happy, but if I see one tear that you are responsible for, you’ll be praying to god.”

“That is understandable.” Stefan nodded his head, Bonnie sent him one last furrow of her brows before leaving and closing the door, slipping in a few words about keeping the volume down whilst doing so. “Now where we?” He licked his lips after his enquiry, as he crawled onto the bed, and cupped your face, leaning his own down closer to your own.

“In the midst of me saying that I love you back, and that I would take not doubt my sister in the slightest Salvatore, she’ll kick your ass if you hurt me; and so will I.” He kissed you, bringing your hand up to his heart, as he stared his emerald pools into your y/e/c galaxies.

“That’s not a part of my plan.” He promised, only to suffocate your attempted response with his lips once more. You were vastly aware that you had to tone down your noise, to keep Bonnie calm. You could practically feel her stare at the wall in the living room, although you were clearly in your own room. “I plan to spend forever with you.”

“That is a complicated subject, let’s not get to that conversation just yet. I’d rather spend time with your cold body than your even paler and motionless one, Bonnie will kill you if she hears whispers of that possibility.” To sway away from the idea of being like him, you pushed the duvet away from your bottom half. “How about you spend forever between my legs, and then we’ll get back to that.”

#stefan salvatore oneshot #stefan salvatore imagine #stefan salvatore fanfiction #stefan x reader #stefan salvatore smut #stefan salvatore x reader #stefan salvatore #Stefan oneshot #tvd imagines #tvd smut #tvdreader #tvdimagine #tvd one shot #tvd x reader #tvd imagine #tvd fanfiction #vampire diaries stefan x reader #the vampire diaries x reader #vampire diaries smut #vampire diaries imagine #vampire diaries oneshot #vampire diaries fanfiction

[legendaryoikawa]

haikyuu boys in your typical romance cliche 

warnings: mention of alcohol and language

note: female reader insert

oikawa tooru — as the typical popular frat boy that you happen to stumble into because you were so damn wasted of alcohol or vodka. you happen to be invited in the biggest frat party ever and you didn’t know whether you should be thankful or ashamed that you gained freedom and liveliness for a short period of time or squashing your face on the chest of the gorgeous oikawa tooru? perhaps the latter. oikawa know you because you were one of those university girl that never gave a damn about him and in instant he grew fond and interested with you. he actually finds it cute to see you all puffy and red because of alcohol but other than that he isn’t gonna let you go this time, never, especially in this state of yours. he’s that typical cliche where he’ll pull your hair up while you throw out in the bathroom while caressing your back gently and wiping off your temples with his handkerchief. 

akaashi keiji — is the classmate that is really intimidating yet hot at the same time? you think you were quite lucky that you were assigned to seat beside him but the moment you gathered your things to move beside him, you can almost feel the weight of the piercing gaze of your classmates. anyways, you got assigned in a school project with him and he offers you his place since the school is bound to close at six and your place is not that appealing much either. so you both walked to his house and you can see the little things he does for you like pressing his body closer to your side when a creepy guy walks across or the ghost of his touch from your back when you both crossed the pedestrian or the way his hands slightly raises your bag cause he knows it’s heavy judging by your slouching. and when the young night passes away, he starts talking about his life and you too, until one moment he confesses that he really admires you, so much.

yamaguchi tadashi — you know yamaguchi and you’re good friends with him since you both live in the quiet neighborhood of sendai. you really love his freckles and usually compare them to constellations that makes him go flustered with his flyaway hair sticking up. he likes you but he’s just so meek and decides to never voice out his feelings. so yamaguchi is part of the photography club and is assigned to take a picture of a subject that is dear to them. and when he walked in the corridors all he could think off was just you. and so he did. you asked him while laughing, as to why he keeps on taking your pictures when you’re not a celebrity yourself, jokingly. but his answer left you off guard especially when he said, “my adviser told me to capture something so beautiful and i think it’s you.”

kageyama tobio  — he’s that boy that no matter how much he wanted to go home and rest, he’ll always wait for you patiently at your lockers despite you asking him to head first because you still have committee work after school. then one moment after the adviser has finished the meeting, you’re shocked to see him leaning against your locker while drinking in from his milk. the moonlight is already shining through the window panels; making his skin glimmer marvelously. you’ll just stare at him dubiously; not knowing what to say. and you feel yourself falling down crazily for him; heart’s erratic. because he waited for two hours at the lockers just to walk you home, even though you told him not to. and you know he’s impatient as fuck but there he is, waiting and snatching you bag away from you. he’ll give you a stare and flickers your forehead while saying, ‘idiot, you think I’ll let you walk home, alone?’ and you’ll just pull his blazer down to capture his lips and he’ll blush so hard lmaoo

kuroo tetsurou  — that transferee student everyone is talking about. with his dark hair, tall frame, and noted muscles— every girl is crazy about him. he is assigned to seat behind you; at the back by the window. and everything just spiralled down to complete euphoria, even you didn’t see it coming. he doesn’t talk much to your classmates. often dismissing a budding interaction from some girls. and it took you by surprise when he asked you for a pen because he left his pencil case in his friend (you heard him tell you his friend’s name, kenma it is?) and it just happen so quickly. everyday he’ll leave you sticky notes in your table with his messy handwriting saying how beautiful you are than the sun, or go out with me? with a little smile on the side. sometimes, you can feel him playing with your hair or reaching out to hold your hand underneath the table while the teacher is writing on the blackboard. 

hinata shoyo  — hinata will be that cliche where he will buy a cupcake because he could remember that it is one of your favorites. often running to your place because he missed the bus and will arrive at your place; his hair all messy and fluffy, panting, with his skin slightly flushed and glimmering with perspiration. or will let you cry on his shirt and won’t mind you soiling it despite the shirt being all new and crispy. he couldn’t bring himself to care to be honest, because his only concern is to make you feel better despite having his shirt all wrinkled and damp from your tears. 

bokuto kotaru  — is that typical boyfriend that would literally walk you down to your room despite his room being two buildings away from yours. he’s that dedicated. that every vacant period, he’ll fetch you off and lead you down to his department’s botanical garden. or will eat lunch with you in your room. or spending together in the library. he’s as fresh as lilies. young as the night. no matter how hard you cajole that you can walk yourself and he shouldn’t bother, he wouldn’t allow you. and will always carry your bag for you even though you can manage to carry it for yourself. he is also that kind of cliche where he’ll ask his professor is he needs something from your building and volunteers to get it for them just to visit you in you room. excusing you from your class and won’t say anything but just steal a peck from you a make a dash towards the faculty room with a proud smirk painting his face cause he rendered you speechless and flustered, again.

tsukishima kei  — is that typical cold guy in campus that everyone is lowkey scared of. you were asked by your biology teacher to borrow the books for the class’s current lesson from the library on the spot you took a beeline for the shelves as fast as you could. but for fuck’s sake all the books were placed at the topmost part of the science shelves. you stood there for a good minute while glaring at the books overhead. you know you were damned for good since there are no chairs nearby that are available and the librarian is nowhere to be seen. you stomped you feet in annoyance until you felt a looming presence behind you. a tall one. and the person smells of fresh vanillas as well. when you turned around, you saw tsukishima grabbing the books at ease and handing it to you and stalked away. you thanked him quietly but it was enough for kei to hear and he wasn’t wrong when he thinks you we’re cute while struggling to get those books on top of you. 

iwaizumi hajime  — that boy you hated to the core. you didn’t know why but he just goes right after your nerve. pressing of your buttons. iwaizumi is the bugbear of your life. yet for him, you’re the fucking cutest person he ever met in his life. and he doesn’t know why you’re so annoyed with his whole existence. but one time, he decided to play it off and decided to push your buttons more. there’s a debate in your class and he stood up to contradict your claims. and basically everyone could feel the sexual tension arising in the air, yet they didn’t utter a word. iwaizumi thinks you’re so hot when your mad and whenever you put an emphasis to him name. or the cliche where he yanked your arm when you’re about to leave the room just to playfully lean in your face, while whispering, ‘you’re so difficult, yet you’re making me want you more’ e2l, pls.

kozume kenma  — kenma is that typical boy that doesn’t allow people to play his console or his psp because it is something dear and precious to him. not even kuroo. no matter how his teammates beg to ask him for just one game, he’ll never allow except for you ;) to the point you don’t have to ask him, sometimes he’ll be the one to offer and let you play the recent game he just purchased lol

— part two will be posted soon! hope you guys like this,, i just started this yesterday with my love, @fratboyjae while we were casually throwing out cute blurbs to each other LOL HAHA. requests are currently open, send them in! love lots!

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyū!! #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #akaashi x reader #yamaguchi x reader #kageyama x reader #kuroo x reader #hinata x reader #bokuto x reader #tsukishima x reader #iwaizumi x reader #kenma x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu smut

[bokuroskitten]

your piece about oral fixation was just 🤤 so now im super curious as to what kinda of gags you think the haikyuu captains + iwa would use on their partners.

oh anon, truly I'm grateful for this one. Because as a rope bunny, I think about it constantly. I didn't do every single haikyuu captain, just ones I feel I know the best. Enjoy the filth. ❦

ℌℭ❦

〈what kind of gags would the haikyuu captains (Bokuto, Terushima, Ushijima, Oikawa, Daichi, Kuroo, Kita) + Iwa enjoy using on their partner.

⋆genre: 18+ NSFW (Minors DNI)

⋆warnings: BDSM themes (use of bondage and gags), dom/sub dynamics (daddy & master title used), oral (female receiving), spit, degradation & dumbification

Bokuto couldn’t be bothered with gags. He likes to hear you falling apart on his cock, the whimpers, the cries, the begging. It’s all music to Bokuto’s ears. Although if you do want to be gagged Bokuto just uses his thick fingers down your throat or slaps his palm across your lips. Both methods effectively render you silent and he still gets the joy of feeling your moans vibrating along his skin.

“You’re so fucking loud, Birdy. The whole neighbourhood is gonna know you’re a desperate little cock whore. Isn’t that right baby Bird?” Bokuto’s voice was nothing but a growl up against your ear, his heavy balls still slapping ruthlessly against your ass as he plunged himself faster into your tight cunt. He went in at the perfect angel this time, his cock head pressing to that sweet spot that would have you screaming. Before the sound could slip out Bokuto pushed three fingers into your mouth, grinning as he watched drool bubble between his knuckles, your cries getting muffled into his skin.

“Yeaaa, suck away baby and take what’s given to you.”

⋆⋆⋆

Terushima is a horny one, typically just wants to get the job done quickly and easily, so he likes to use what’s around. This typically means he’s using his tie. He usually wears one to his job, or sometimes finds himself keeping a spare in his back pocket when you’re being extra annoying. He always ties a knot in the middle first, pressing it between your teeth before knotting the material behind your head. It’s effective enough to keep you muffled but simple enough that he can still see your lips tremble, watch drool darken the fabric and dribble down your chin.

“Careful princess, you want the boys to know I’m stuffing you full of cock?” He spoke through a wicked grin, his lips pressed to your pulse as his hands held your hips in a death grip. The subtle slap of your ass into his pelvis kept him on beat, along with the muffled cries you let out into his tie. One of his hands slithered up your bent form, making sure to squeeze one of your breasts on the way up before taking hold of your jaw. His long fingers brushed over your chin, the drool already gathering there making him pick up his pace. He pressed the knot he made in his tie further between your teeth, making you whimper a plea that had him chuckling.

“Messy fuckin thing, by the time I fill you up there’s gonna be a mess on your face and between your thighs.”

⋆⋆⋆

Ushijima is a simple man with simple desires. Despite that, he actually enjoys using a gag on you because it gives him even more power over you than you already give him. He typically won’t use one unless other BDSM elements are in play (his favourite is ropes because he likes to make intricate patterns over your skin) but his favourite type to use is a deep throat gag. In every sense of the word, Ushi is big and wants to make sure your tight little throat is ready to be used when he wants it to use it. There’s a couple of different sizes he uses that he has you build up with, but each one comes with a reward when you’re able to swallow it down without gagging.

Although his face was usually calm during sessions today was an exception as he worked the length of the gag between your lips. “Baby, tap out if you need to—“ But you just furrowed your brows at him, fists tightening in determination which were currently bound above your head. It was a sign for him to keep going, so he did. He pushed the slick silicon between your lips until the hilt rested against your lips. He didn’t do up the leather strap just yet, waited to see if you’d gag or choke with such a big size being shoved down your throat. But there you were, sitting pretty with tears riming your lashes, the gag pressing snuggly down on your tongue. Ushijima hummed out, pleased with such progress as he was slow to buckle up the leather strap. He pressed kisses along your jaw, a small smile creeping its way onto his lips.

“I’m so proud of you, little one.”

⋆⋆⋆

Oikawa will only use ring gags because it keeps your mouth wide open and ready to use whenever he feels he needs it. Plus it allows for him to still be able to hear you when you moan and cry for him. He also loves the mess you make with a ring gag, helpless to the drool and bubbling spit that falls from your chin. Sometimes as a form of punishment he’ll leave you between his thighs, arms bound and a ring gag held snuggly between your lips. He’ll stroke his cock lazily while watching tv, only grabbing a fist full of your hair to shove that sloppy mouth of yours onto his cock when he feels the need.

The whines you let out are ignored completely by Oikawa, a little huff leaving his lips as his eyes slowly slip from the screen down to between his legs. There you sat, eyes wide and mascara streak marks down your cheeks. Your body was already trembling, sitting on your hunches for whenever Oikawa decided to take hold of your hair once more. He could see the way your tongue tried to pick up some of the drool that fell from the ring, only making matters worse as a new little stream of spit fell off your chin to continue to dampen your tank top. Oikawa just couldn’t help himself, and in one swift motion, his hips were pressing his cock back between the ring, burying deep within your throat that had it constricting. He hissed softly before a small flutter of laughter escaped him.

“Fuck, at least this fucking throat is good for something. Maybe I should keep this ring on all the time so you’ll always be ready for my dick? You like the sound of that baby?” He was only met by muffled whines and gags as he bobbed your head along this length.

⋆⋆⋆

Daichi hates when you talk back to him, it makes him so tense because all he does is treat you like his perfect little princess. So when you do get mouthy he has no problem getting you worked up whenever you are. He’ll tease, whisper into your ear about how naughty your being, grab handfuls of your ass until you make a mess of your panties. He’ll then shove the filthy material between your lips. Not only will get to humiliate you then, but he’ll also get to punish you properly without having to hear a single peep from you.

“You think good little girls talk back to their daddy’s like you do? No. They listen, and they behave. Since you wanna use such a filthy mouth I’ll keep it filthy for you.” Your previous cries were brought down to muffles as Daichi forced your damp panties between your lips. Balled up and soaked from your precious arousal you can’t even help but let your eyes flutter, the taste of your own desire making your cheeks burn bright pink. Daichi has to scoff, fingers pressing into your cheeks as giving your jaw a little shake. “Taste that? That’s your filthy little cum stains. Imagine staining your own panties from a few promises of punishment?” His cock was heavy as he quickly freed it from his boxers, making you Yelp softly as it slapped down against your already soaked slit. He rubbed it along you a few moments, pressing into your cheeks harder to keep your panties in place.

“Maybe if I just fuck you stupid, you’ll stop talking altogether?”

⋆⋆⋆

Kuroo likes to keep with the classics, and there’s nothing more classic than a ball gag. He started off with wiffleball first, wanting you to feel nothing but comfortable before he moved on to solid silicon, balls that would leave your jaw aching after sessions. He loved the way you looked, sitting on your knees for him on the bed with a bright red ball gag wedged in your mouth, already covered in spit. He would the type to put on you whenever you felt like it just so he could coo about how pretty you looked. He also took many many pictures of your mouth stuffed, keeping a secret folder just for it.

“Stay still kitten,” Kuroo mumbled close to your ear, pressing a couple playful kisses to your lobe as he secured the black leather behind your head. He slipped two fingers into the band, making sure it was loose enough to pull off if needed but tighten to hold. Once he was pleased he pulled away, the most satisfying groan leaving his lips as yours were stretched around the bright red. ���Perfect, my perfect fucking kitten...” he spoke, his thumb pressing along the ball as you blinked up at him with wide, needy eyes. Your hands stay still on your lap exactly where he instructed them, a little whine coming out muffled only when Kuroo pulled away from you fully. He rose a brow at that, the flash of disappointment in his gaze enough to have you resting back down on your hunches.

“Ah, I said stay still, Kitty. I’ll play with you soon I promise. But Daddy needs a few pictures of his beautiful baby before we can get started. So keep sitting pretty for me.”

⋆⋆⋆

Kita only uses any form of BDSM with you because you’re interested in it. When you brought it up to him he was very much unaware but did as much research as possible. He decides to start off with a bite gag because, unlike ball gags, it allows for more relaxation of the jaw, as well as causes less mess in terms of drool. Plus he’s always enjoyed watching you bite down on the sheets when you're feeling a lot of pleasure, so the bite gag allows for him to watch your teeth sink on so perfectly into the rubber.

Kita’s thrusts slowed almost too much for you, your pussy desperately fluttering around his length to bring back that friction. You wanted to beg him to keep going, pick the pace back up but all you could do was let out muffled cries, press your teeth further into the bite forced between your lips. Kita watched it all, the way your face twisted up with need, the way your back arched, the way your hips jutted forwards in hopes to feel more of him. He just let out a soft little groan, planting a firm palm on your hip to keep you in place as he continued his slow, dragged out thrusts into your throbbing cunt.

“Just a little longer like this, kay Darlin? I love seeing you bite into that gag, we’re gonna have to use it more often.”

⋆⋆⋆

Iwaizumi was used to using his hand, slapping it over your lips when he found you were getting too loud. But he never knew what to do with all your squirming. Cuffs were too simple and ropes just weren’t his vibe, but when he discovered bondage tape it was a whole other ball game. Not only was it perfect because it only stuck to itself, resulting in safer play, but it was very much effective in shutting you up when he needed you quiet. His favourite part is watching you flinch when he rips a piece away from the roll, the way you shiver in anticipation as he hovers the piece over your lips. It only when you're about to whine at him that he presses it against your lips, a grin curling on his lips.

“Fuck Princess, you’re tighter than usual? Excited?” Iwaizumi murmured, his grin growing as he watched your eyes roll up in pleasure. He brought a large palm up to your cheek, bringing your blurry vision back to his own. His thrusts slowed, allowing his thick cock to drag along that throbbing spot within you. That had your back arching, muffled little pleas melting into the tape that was held firm over your lips. Iwaizumi sighed softly, his thumb rubbing over the tape to feel out the outline of your pretty lips. The action had you nuzzling into his palm, another string of muffled nonsense trying to escape the tape and failing miserably.

“I know you’re begging me to move faster under here... but remember princess, Master makes the rules. So let’s keep you quiet and I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow.”

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu smut #haikyuu captains #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #oikawa x reader #kita x reader #iwaizumi x reader #ushijima x reader #daichi x reader #terushima x reader #haikyuu x you #bokuto smut #kuroo smut #daichi smut #iwaizumi smut #oikawa smut #kita smut #terushima smut

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Love Sick

Masterlist

Summary: A story about how Spencer’s worst decision ever somehow ends up being his best.

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves! This fic is loosely based on a request I got about Spencer faking an illness to keep the reader from going on a date.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: swearing

Word Count: 4k

Spencer has done a terrible, awful thing.

He wants to argue that he doesn’t know what came over him, but that would be untrue and he’s already met today’s quota on little white lies. Spencer knows exactly what possessed him to call you up at seven thirty on a Saturday night, and it wasn’t so that the two of you could discuss the weather or the recent upward trend in the stock market. Spencer’s spontaneous (panicked) phone call to you was a brazen attempt to abate the green-eyed monster that had been whispering dreadful things in his ear for the better part of a week.

To put it simply; Spencer is jealous, and he’s dealing with it rather poorly.

So poorly that he’s resorted to sabotage.

As he sits on his couch and worries at a hole in the bottom of his designated lounging sweatshirt, Spencer attempts to justify his actions. His tiny fib won’t hurt anyone . . . except, perhaps, one annoyingly perfect and stupidly handsome veterinarian. But Spencer can live with that. Potentially scorning an animal care specialist isn’t the thing that has his stomach in knots. That, he can live with. Spencer doesn’t even have pets, so there’s no longterm consequences as far as the vet is concerned. The notion of lying to you, on the other hand? 

Spencer is positively sick with nerves.

He’s not sure why. Spencer’s gotten rather good at lying to you. Several months of pining for you from across the hallway of your shared apartment complex has turned him into quite the master of deceit, after all. He was a sucker from the moment he opened his door and lay his eyes on you, arms outstretched and wielding a plate of homemade sweets. The cookies were lovely, but the breathtaking smile on your face is what really did him in.

Since that first day, Spencer’s gone out of his way to ensure that he’s on the receiving end of that smile as often as possible. His efforts are never in vain; for reasons unbeknownst to him, you seem to enjoy spending time with him just as much as he did you. This mutual fondness results in most of Spencer’s off days being spent in your company. Spencer was certain that, with time, he would work up the nerve to ask you out on a date. He’s halfway to convincing himself that you might even say yes when your cat makes the unfortunate decision to steal a brownie from your plate and gulp the whole thing down.

Enter, aforementioned veterinarian.

The sound of your door opening from across the hall has Spencer breaking out into a cold sweat. His hand is halfway to his forehead, ready to wipe away the perspiration when he pauses. His body’s anxious reaction might just help him sell his story. Yes, Spencer thinks, this is a good thing. Authenticity, and all that.

Several soft footsteps are muffled by the door that separates him from you, and then his doorknob jiggles as you struggle to fit your key into the lock. A jolt of adrenaline surges through Spencer and in the blink of an eye he’s on his feet and sprinting to his bathroom in the name of authenticity. If he wants to keep up this ridiculous façade, and he really, really does, Spencer is prepared to fake it until he makes it. The alternative is far too mortifying. Failure is not an option.

Spencer cringes when he lifts his eyes to meet his reflection. He’s been told more than once that he’s an absolutely terrible liar, and the wide, guilty eyes that stare back at him confirm this. All it will take is one look at him and you’ll know something’s amiss. Perhaps it isn’t too late for Spencer to come clean. It would be embarrassing, yeah, but no less embarrassing than it would be an hour from now when you call him on his shit. But then again, there is always the possibility that you will get angry with him and leave, and Spencer isn’t willing to risk you walking away from him. Not tonight.

Spencer barely has the time to splash some cold water on his face and dive to the bathroom floor before you’re pushing open the door to his apartment and calling out his name. His brain, the part that isn’t rendered useless in his panicked state, reminds him of just how many germs can be found on the average bathroom floor. It’s enough to make him pause, but only for a moment. He takes a deep breath before slumping over against the toilet.

Showtime.

“M’ in here,” Spencer calls out in his croakiest voice. It comes out exactly as he intended, all rough and pitiful. Maybe he can pull this off, after all.

The soft pitter patter of your bare feet makes his heart rate increase exponentially. Spencer steels himself, recites a reassuring mantra in his head. I can do this; I can do this.

Spencer’s poor, overworked heart gets a much-needed rest when you step into the doorway. In fact, he’s almost certain it stops completely at the sight of you in a tiny red dress. A tiny red dress that leaves very little to the imagination. Spencer can’t even see past his mounting panic to enjoy the way you look. That damn red dress serves as a brutal reminder of why he’s sitting in his bathroom floor, clutching his toilet bowl and damn near drowning in a nervous sweat.

The thing is, Spencer hadn’t intended on sabotaging your date with the vet. He had every intention of staying in, wallowing in his sorrows and waiting up for you. Spencer even said this to Derek, who was kind enough to call him and remind him of how big of a jackass he was. Spencer didn’t need the reminder. He was well aware.

But then Derek said something that made Spencer’s blood run cold.

“And what exactly do you plan to do if she doesn’t come home?”

So, really, it’s Derek’s fault that Spencer promptly ended the call and dialed your number. It’s also Derek’s fault that Spencer is about to give the most convincing performance of his entire fucking life.

“I’m sorry I called you, but I didn’t know what else to do. I just feel so awful.” And he does feel awful, just not in the way you think.

You’re quick to close the distance between the two of you, dropping to your knees and brushing stray pieces of hair away from Spencer’s clammy forehead. His skin sings where your hand grazes it. If he didn’t have a fever before, he will if you don’t stop touching him.

“Don’t ever apologize, Spence. I wish you’d have called me sooner,” you murmur. Warm, concerned eyes drag across Spencer’s bedraggled appearance. “How long have you been feeling sick?”

Spencer gulps. “A few hours, I guess. I ate my leftovers from last night for lunch. Maybe that’s what’s wrong.”Lies, lies, lies!

Your brow furrows. “That’s strange. I ate mine, too, and I feel fine.”

Spencer doesn’t really have an argument for that, so he fakes a pained groan and rests his head against his arm. He closes his eyes and prays the intro to theater class he took in high school will pay off.

You must deem his act convincing enough because you press a soft kiss to the top of his hair and stand. Spencer hears the sound of a cabinet opening, followed by the sound of running water.

The tender touch of your hand on his shoulder has him raising his head and looking up at you, inquisitive. You place a cold washrag to his forehead, and Spencer melts into the touch. It feels heavenly against his hot skin.

“Do you think you could manage to take a shower?” you prompt, earning a feeble nod from Spencer. He doesn’t even have to fake the way he trembles as you run the damp cloth down his neck. “I think I have some broccoli and cheddar soup at my apartment. I’ll go change and grab it while you shower.”

Elation spreads through Spencer, pouring from his heart until it reaches the very tips of his extremities. He can’t believe his scheme hasn’t blown up in his face already.

With the help of your outstretched hand, Spencer rises to his feet and braces himself against the shower door. You make no move to remove your hand from his, and that gives him the courage to ask his next question.

“What about your date?”

You shrug and an easy smile spreads across your face. Spencer feels faint. He blames it on his imaginary illness.  

“Don’t worry about that. The only thing I’m concerned with right now is taking care of you.”

Spencer bites down hard on the flesh of his cheek to keep a smug grin at bay. This is a victory he’ll have to celebrate at a later date.

--

Spencer enters his living room, freshly showered and donned in clean pajamas, to the sound of your voice speaking quietly into your cellphone. He halts just before he enters his kitchen, straining to catch a snippet of your conversation. As he leans closer to the sound of your voice, Spencer halfheartedly chastises himself. First, he deceives you, now he’s resorting to eavesdropping. Rock, meet bottom.

He’s just about to wrench himself away and retreat to the couch, when:

“I really am sorry about cancelling, especially on such short notice.” A short stretch of silence follows. “Next Saturday? Oh. Um, yeah, I’ll let you know, okay?”

Spencer is very much like a popped balloon; the earlier feelings of elation leave him in a harsh gust. Next Saturday? He barely managed to derail this Saturday’s date! No way he could get away with it a second time.

In the midst of his inner turmoil, Spencer misses you exchanging goodbyes with the vet before collecting Spencer’s bowl of soup. He’s still standing there, absolutely crestfallen, when you round the corner. You nearly collide with his chest, narrowly avoiding it by skidding to a halt in front of him. Your eyes run up his frame, assessing him, until they rest on his face.

“You scared me, Spence,” you chuckle. You cock your head to the side. Spencer imagines his expression is none dissimilar to that of a disgruntled frog. “You feeling okay? You’re not going to puke again, are you?”

Honestly, he might. The idea of you rescheduling your date with the vet is about as vomit inducing as it gets.

“I’m fine,” Spencer says on an exhale. Funnily, it’s probably the biggest lie he’s told all day. “The shower helped.”

His delivery is flat, but you don’t seem to mind. You smile up at him, relieved, and Spencer’s chest aches.

“I was thinking you and I could watch a movie?” you offer, and Spencer nods his assent. He can’t fathom turning you down. Not when you’re wearing an old sweatshirt you stole from his closet and a pair of fuzzy socks with little hearts on them. The ache intensifies.

“What are we watching?”

You plop down on the couch and look at him expectantly. He follows in suit, settling in beside you.

“I was thinking that you could choose,” you murmur as you place the bowl in his hands. Spencer shoots a teasing smile your way as he raises the spoon to his mouth.

“You mean, you’re actually going to let me pick the movie? I should get sick more often.”

His cheek earns him an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter. “You always pick the movie.” 

He can count on one hand the amount of times he’s gotten to pick the movie.

Spencer is about to launch into an impassioned rebuttal when the feeling of your fingers scratching against his scalp renders him speechless. His eyes dart to your face as you concentrate on scrolling through the TV guide, seemingly unaware of the effect the simple act has on him. Meanwhile, Spencer’s brain is short-circuiting.

You begin to read off a list of potential movies to him, but Spencer barely hears you. He’s practically purring as you twirl his curls around lithe fingers, his eyes threatening to flutter closed as an intense feeling of euphoria washes over him. Maybe it’s because he’s touch starved, or maybe it’s because it’s been so long since someone just looked after him. Whatever it is, Spencer embraces it wholeheartedly.

“-heard it’s pretty good. So, what do you say, Spence?”

Spencer pulls himself back to the present, blinking lazily at you. You’re looking at him, expectant, and Spencer’s eyes flit to the TV. His eyes skim its contents, reading briefly about a movie in which some family moves into a haunted house.

His face breaks out into a grin and he nods, because Spencer’s known you long enough to recognize that watching a horror movie usually results in you pressed tightly to his side and clinging to his hand. He also knows that nine times out of ten, you choose to watch a horror movie over anything else. No wonder he always lets you choose.

And sure enough, not even ten minutes in, Spencer is ditching his bowl of soup and pulling you into his arms. Once you’ve draped a blanket around the two of you settled in, you glance up at him.

“How are you feeling, Spence?”

Spencer responds by saying that he’s suddenly feeling much better. 

Spencer Reid - 1, Veterinarian – 0

--

Spencer’s not sure at which point he fell asleep. All he knows is that he certainly does not remember sprawling out across your body, nor does he remember tucking his head into the crook of your neck. But this is how he finds himself when the sun begins to pour in through his windows the next morning, and Spencer can’t bring himself to care about how he came to be there.

Spencer guesstimates that it’s no later than seven in the morning. You’re still fast asleep underneath him, your chest rising and falling rhythmically with every breath. It’s early, and it’s Sunday, and Spencer can’t think of a single reason to wake you. Instead, he snuggles in closer, because he’d be a fool not to enjoy this while it lasts.

Unfortunately, the shrill sound of Spencer’s ringing phone shatters the serenity. He prays that it won’t disturb you, that you’ll remain oblivious and continue to sleep, but that hope is shattered when you begin to shift underneath him. Spencer makes quick work of peeling himself off of you before dashing to his kitchen and snatching his phone off the table.

He’s prepared to verbally assault whoever has the audacity to defile the sanctity of lazy Sunday mornings when a quick peek into the living room finds you still fast asleep on his sofa. He smiles, soft and fond, before pressing the accept button and bringing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“I was beginning to wonder if you were still alive.” Spencer’s smile transforms into a grimace. Apparently, Derek Morgan doesn’t believe in lie-ins. “I was preparing myself for a rescue mission.”

“It’s seven in the morning. I was asleep.”

Derek lets out a low whistle. “Who pissed in your Cheerios, Pretty Boy?”

“You, when you decided that it was acceptable to ring me before eight,” Spencer whisper shouts. He knows that he’s being touchy, to say the least, but who can blame him? Five minutes ago, he was cuddling with the most beautiful girl he’s ever had the privilege to lay eyes on. Now, he’s shooting the breeze with a colleague. Obviously, Spencer would prefer the former to the latter.

“Jesus, kid. I’m going to take a wild guess and say that girl of yours didn’t make it home, after all. You okay?”

The guilty feeling returns and Spencer cringes. “Uh, define ‘okay.’”

Derek curses on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, kid. Try not to beat yourself up about it, okay? There’s plenty of fish in the sea, you’ve just gotta put yourself out there. How’s this; you and me will go out next weekend and bar hop. I’ll teach you some Derek Morgan tricks of the trade. Soon enough, you’ll have forgotten all about her.”

“I don’t know, that might be hard.” Spencer scratches the back of his neck. “She’s asleep on my couch right now.”

A long stretch of silence comes from the other end of the line, and Spencer thinks for a moment that the call dropped. Unfortunately, he isn’t that lucky. A booming laugh erupts from the speaker and makes him jump out of his skin.

“My man!” Derek laughs, incredulous. “I didn’t think you had it in you, I’ll be honest.”

“It’s not what you think-”

“How did you manage that? Did the Good Doctor make a grand romantic gesture? Damn, I really hate that I missed that.”

“No, there were no gestures. And it’s not-”

Derek cuts him off. Again. “How’d she take the news? I’m assuming she took it well, if she stayed the night.”

“I didn’t tell her anything!” Spencer spits out, frustrated. “I… I told her I was sick. She came over to take care of me, and we fell asleep on the couch.”

Spencer’s proclamation is met with another long silence.

“So, you sabotaged the date?”

Spencer winces. “I did not sabotage it. I just… manipulated the situation a little.”

“Oh, you certainly did,” Derek chuckles. “How did you pull that off? I’ve seen you try to lie. That shit is laughable.”

Spencer opens his mouth to defend himself, but the pitter patter of socked feet approaching him from behind has his mouth running dry.

“Yeah, Spencer. How did you pull that off?”

Spencer had been correct in his earlier assumptions. The inevitable moment in which you called him out on his shit has arrived, and it’s every bit as mortifying as he expected. So mortifying that he can practically feel the blood drain from his face. And the thing is that he knows he deserves whatever you’re about to throw his way… it’s just that the thought of you being angry with him kind of makes him want to cry. And that would only add to the mortification.

He turns around slowly, his body rigid, until he’s met with the adorably rumpled vision of you with your arms crossed and your hair sticking up in all directions.

Spencer’s never seen anything quite so mesmerizing, and it hurts because he knows he’s ruined everything. He’ll never get to watch another scary movie with you tucked neatly against his side, or wake up in your arms again. He’ll never get to kiss you.

And the worst of all; Spencer will never get to tell you how he really feels. It’s a crying shame, because he thinks he could have been really good at loving you.

“Hey, Derek, I gotta go.”

Spencer presses the end call button and immerses himself in what has to be the most awkward stand-off of all time. You stand there, arms crossed, head cocked to the side with one hip jutted out. Spencer isn’t sure how you manage to look intimidating and endearing at the same time. He supposes the fuzzy socks are to blame.

Minutes pass, but they feel like hours. Spencer is approximately three seconds away from dropping to his knees and groveling when you finally speak.

“You sabotaged my date.”

Spencer lets out a strangled laugh. Perhaps humor is the way to go? It couldn’t hurt to try. In his opinion, the situation couldn’t possibly get any worse. “I think sabotage is a strong word. I prefer the term obstruct.”

You let loose a laugh of your own, but this one holds no humor. “And I prefer keeping the company of people who don’t lie to me.” Okay, maybe it can get worse.

Spencer visibly deflates. It was a stupid idea. He’s never been a funny guy.

“I am so, so, so incredibly sorry.” Sorry for lying to you, that is. Spencer isn’t in the least bit apologetic for ruining your date. Given the chance, he’d do it again - in a more tactful way, of course. Preferably, in such a way that didn’t involve him laying in his bathroom floor. 

Spencer attempts to take a step forward, only to be rooted to the spot when you fix him with a look. He’s not funny but he is smart – smart enough to know better than to push it. 

“Why did you do it?”

Spencer was really hoping you wouldn’t ask that.

“I-I…”

Apparently, an eidetic memory doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to confrontations involving pretty girls. One quirk of an immaculately plucked eyebrow and Spencer loses the ability to recall a single word of the English language. It’s tragic, really.

“Spit it out, Spencer.”

“I didn’t want you to go on the date.” It’s like ripping off a band aid, the way the words tumble from his lips. It’s painless at first, but then the sting sets in when he realizes what he’s done. 

Your lack of reaction doesn’t help. Your face remains passive, as if he didn’t just offer himself to you on a silver platter. Spencer squirms uncomfortably.

“Why didn’t you want me to go on the date?”

God, this is excruciating. You’re clearly out for blood, and the twinkle in your eye shows just how much you’re enjoying this. Spencer would have never taken you for a sadist.

“Because…” Spencer trails off and allows his eyes to drift closed. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it his way. With his eyes closed, because he can’t bear the thought of looking you in the eye when you reject him. “B-Because I like you. A lot.”

Spencer hasn’t had a lot of practice at being wrong. In fact, he’s spent the majority of his life being right. It seems the universe is making up for that now, because he can’t seem to get a single goddamn thing right today.

You laugh at him. You actually laugh in his face. Mortified doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

“You like me.” It isn’t a question.

Spencer keeps his eyes shut tight.

“Y-Yeah.”

You know how they say if you take away one of a person’s senses, all of the others are heightened? Spencer couldn’t disagree more. In the midst of his despair, he’s completely unaware that you’ve crossed the room and are now standing directly in front of him until you speak again.

“Well, that’s rather unfortunate,” you sigh. Spencer inhales a sharp breath when he realizes you’re close enough to touch. Still, he keeps his eyes closed.

“Uh, why is that?”

Spencer nearly jumps out of his skin when your hand reaches up and caresses the side of his jaw.

“Because, Spencer,” you murmur, silky and sweet. “I was hoping you just might love me.”

Spencer’s eyes fly open and he’s greeted by a lazy, contented smile. It’s similar to the one that greeted him when he opened his front door on that very first day, but it’s better somehow. Later reflection will determine that it’s better because it’s the kind of smile reserved just for him. And that’s all he’s ever wanted, really.

“W-What?”

“You heard me.” You tilt your head up and rest your palm on Spencer’s chest. His heartbeat is erratic, thundering hard against his ribcage. He’d surely be embarrassed if he wasn’t about to faint from shock. “Do you love me, Spencer Reid?”

Spencer doesn’t even have to think twice.

“More than anything.”

“Good.” Your thumb brushes across the apple of his cheek, eliciting a full body shudder. “I was beginning to think you would never catch up.”

Spencer must be hallucinating. That, or this is all a dream and any second now his alarm is going to go off. He subtly pinches himself on the thigh to test the theory. You can imagine his surprise when nothing changes. He doesn’t wake up in a pile of his own drool, and now the skin on his thigh stings.

“You . . . You like me, too?”

You shake your head. “No, Spencer. I love you, too. Why do you think I bake you cookies and spend all of my free time in your apartment?”

“Because my couch is better than yours?” Spencer deadpans.

“I mean, that certainly doesn’t hurt. But it’s not the only reason.”

“What about the vet?” It must be his guilty conscious talking, because Spencer cannot conjure up any other reason he has for asking such a moronic question. He, personally, could not care less about the vet. Full offense intended.

“Cameron is a nice guy, sure,” you trail off. Spencer doesn’t miss the way your eyes drift down to his lips before returning to his eyes. “But he’s not really my type.”

“And what is your type, exactly?” A giddy grin finds its way to Spencer’s face. He’s notorious for being chronically clueless, but even the master of imperception himself can see where this is going. 

You snort, and it’s adorable. “Liars, apparently.”

It’s impossible to determine who moves first, but that doesn’t really matter. What does matter is the end result of Spencer’s lips colliding with yours. It’s earth-shatteringly lovely; slow and sweet and tentative. There’s no rushing, no frantic fumbling of hands. Just the reverent drag of your lips against his, warm and intoxicating. 

Spencer eventually regains the use of his limbs and when he does, he’s snaking one arm around your waist as the other entangles itself in your wonderfully unruly hair. 

You sigh a happy sigh against his lips and Spencer’s heart soars. In a completely unforeseen turn of events, the possibility of more lazy Sunday mornings is now back on the table. Thank God he’s better at lying than he gave himself credit for. 

God, and Derek Morgan’s meddling ass. 

-

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